


Broken Parts of a Whole

by hawkeyesmyguy



Category: Clintasha - Fandom, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeyesmyguy/pseuds/hawkeyesmyguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello there lovely people! I'm new to all this stuff but something fantastic happened a few months back, I made a friend whom encouraged me to role play with her and it's become an obsession and my weekends are full of feels. Fairly recently another one of our darling pals offered to edit one of our threads and help us form it into a fanfic for you folks! XD</p><p>So thus it begins... Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there lovely people! I'm new to all this stuff but something fantastic happened a few months back, I made a friend whom encouraged me to role play with her and it's become an obsession and my weekends are full of feels. Fairly recently another one of our darling pals offered to edit one of our threads and help us form it into a fanfic for you folks! XD
> 
> So thus it begins... Hope you enjoy!

Everything had been going according to plan.

Clint watched from a distance as usual, perched up on the ledge of the building across the way. He cleared out at least half a dozen guys surrounding the building she was in. The Black Widow had woven her web as always, her prey tangling themselves more inextricably without even realizing it. She stood battered and bloodied with her hands shackled together above her head, but what were a few bumps and cuts if it meant she was getting all the information she needed and more from these morons? The Russian arms dealer, who had once been one of her best 'clients', struck her across the face again.

Tucking his bow on his back, Clint ran to the edge, leaping and grabbing hold of the railing of the fire escape. The archer hoisted himself upward to the floor, hoping to God that this freaking window was unlocked. To his surprise, it was. He ducked through the opening once he yanked it open, smiling to himself. This was so easy, it was almost pathetic. He pulled his bow around his shoulder and jogged down a darkened hallway, quickly drawing an arrow, then another as he killed two more men.

"You think you can just disappear on me for months and not pay a price, you prissy little bitch? Erik has you in his pocket now, doesn't he? What? Does he pay better? Does he give you bigger jobs?" Marek sneered. Natasha just smirked; so it was Erik Borgov that was taking over all of her former boss's storehouses.

"Well, he certainly had bigger things to offer me…" Natasha quipped, looking pointedly down between Marek's legs and quirking her eyebrows. Marek snarled like an enraged animal and stormed over to a workbench, picking up a large serrated knife.

Barton had managed to make his way high up into the rafters of the building, looking down at Natasha as she worked. His muscles tensed with anger and frustration as their conversation went on. Marek picked up his weapon of choice and stepped closer to the redheaded agent. Clint crept in the shadows as he drew another arrow, hearing only the sound of his own steady heart beat as he lifted his bow and pulled back on its tightened string.

"You want to be stuck with something big do you? You fucking whore!" Marek rushed her and just as he reared his arm back to attack and Natasha readied to counter, the man gurgled and spun hitting the concrete floor of the warehouse hard, a black arrow through his throat. The spy's eyes widened with alarm and she quickly yanked her wrists out of the cuffs she had unlocked but held closed through the whole interrogation for show.

"Dammit Barton, I had him! Get the hell out of here now, Marek always rigged his places to blow if anything went sideways!" Natasha swore into her com as she rolled to avoid the advance of one of Marek's goons. Five of them were closing in on her while two others looked around in the rafters to spot their employer's killer. She saw one of them push a panic button and she cursed again in Russian.

Two men began searching the rafters for the source of the arrow. They spotted him and opened fire. A bullet grazed Barton's shoulder as he ducked down. The archer's breath was coming fast now as he heard the sound of an alarm ringing in his ears, or was that from the gun fire? Both he thought. He couldn't tell for sure everything happened so fast, he should have thought this one through. He was trapped in his position and he knew this place was about to blow. "Nat, you've gotta get out. I'll cover you till you reach the door!" he suggested, wanting to guarantee that at least one of them got out alive.

Natasha swept the feet out from under the man closest to her, grabbing his face on his way down using his momentum to aid her own force. His head bounced off the concrete when he hit the floor. She grabbed the Glock out of his hand and shot the next two coming at her, but not before one of them fired a round she couldn't dodge. The bullet went through her side and she hissed through her teeth, pushing down the pain for the moment.

"You really think I would just leave you behind after four months of putting up with your preaching about 'being part of a team' and not doing everything on my own anymore?" Natasha berated her partner, but there was a tight grin in her voice. She could tell Barton was pinned down high up in the rafters of the warehouse. As Natasha raised her arm to shoot one of the men shooting at Clint, her ankle was suddenly yanked out from under her by one of the men she thought she had put down.

Clint heard the Black Widow's reply come in over his com again and he rolled his eyes. The archer had been cornered high up in his position and his only option was to jump and hope for the best. He leapt down from the rafters, tucking and rolling to avoid one man's aim. Rising to his feet quickly and without looking, Clint fired an arrow at his enemy, hitting him directly in the throat. The man choked and gurgled, gasping desperately for breath; his knees collapsed beneath him and he hit the concrete hard. The archer knew he had to move, and fast. A plan? He didn't have one.

Hitting the floor, Natasha bent back and shot her attacker square in the face, making sure he was really dead this time. She arched back to shoot at the others again, but it was too late. The east wall of the warehouse erupted with billowing flame and a chorus of deafening explosions. She covered her head and bits of flaming debris bounced off of her. The force of the blast combined with the blood loss of from her wound was making her senses of sight and hearing cut in and out.

She looked back up to the corner Clint was trapped in. The corner he used to be trapped in. Now that end of the warehouse was nothing but a fiery hole. Her insides clenched and her blood froze. There couldn't possibly be anything left of the archer after that.

One of Marek's men had survived the explosion and hauled himself to his knee, aiming his gun at her when he saw she was still alive. She simply watched it happen. Natasha had gone completely numb. What did it matter if he shot her now? She was going to bleed out from her wound soon anyway, and besides that the only light she'd ever managed to find in her dark life had just been snuffed out. Natasha's vision swam and faded to black, and she welcomed the abyss.

Clint ran as quickly as his feet would carry him, hearing the base of the explosion and the vibration beneath him. Shit, he thought just as he felt the painfully hot wall of flames erupt behind him. The explosion knocked him forward, his face skidding against the concrete.

The agent managed to maneuver himself forward and struggle to his feet. He raised his hand to wipe the blood trickling down from his brow that had been split open from the fall, wincing as he stretched the burnt skin of his shoulder. He could only hope it wasn't as bad as it felt.

He ran towards the direction of his redheaded partner, seeing her lying on the floor as he rounded the corner. One of Marek's men had a gun aimed straight at her head but she didn't seem to respond to the danger, slowly slipping away into the darkness.

Clint raised his retractable bow yet again, drawing an arrow from the quiver on his back and silently hooking it onto the bow string. He stepped behind the man, standing tall above him, "If you're trying to kill me…" he began, his voice harsh and completely unsympathetic for the frightened and injured man before him.

The guy turned aiming at the archer now, in shock that he survived the explosion. Clint pulled back, firing the arrow through the eye socket of guy who'd been aiming at The Widow previously, "…You're gonna have to do a hell of a lot better than that." he finished, lowering his bow and tossing it over his shoulder, ignoring any pain he felt as he gathered Natasha in his arms. "Come on - Stay with me. My partners aren't allowed to die. It's my only rule." he panted and chuckled half-heartedly as he carried her bridal style out of the burning warehouse.

She'd lost a lot of blood but he was hopeful that if he got her to the nearby SHIELD base fast enough, Natasha would survive. He half expected his partner, as stubborn as she could sometimes be, to wake up and yell at him in a mix of Russian and English, telling him how stupid he was and make some comment about how he was treating her like a kid or something and pushing him away from her, storming off and out of the building, hiding her pain. But she never woke and Clint never expected that he'd actually miss the sound of the redhead's nagging voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy part 2! XD

The first thing to greet Natasha as she struggled back to consciousness was pain.

Everything hurt. Her cracked ribs, her stiff joints, her bruised jaw and split lip, most of all the gunshot wound in her side. The spy was well acquainted with pain; really it was her oldest and most honest friend. But this time it was different.

The 'training' she had received in the Red Room made physical pain relatively easy to overcome, she could push it down in a box and keep it for later when the heat was off. But this… This heart wrenching, mind-fracturing pain gnawing at her insides was wholly alien to Natasha Romanov, the merciless Black Widow. He was dead. He was dead and it was her fault. The first person that had reached out to her, who had seen past her mask and believed there was more to her than just the monster she had allowed herself to be to survive. The universe certainly had a cruel way of reminding her never to trust, never to open herself up like she had.

A sound tugged at her half-awake senses, cutting through her sorrow and turning her insides cold with fear. All this pain – that meant she was alive. Alive, alone and at the mercy of who the hell knew. Natasha's blue eyes cracked open and a fuzzy image of a woman in a white coat floated in her peripheral vision, she was getting ready to stick a syringe into an IV that was hooked up to her arm…

The Widow's survival instincts kicked in, a surge of adrenaline sharpening her vision and tightening her muscles. Thankfully wasn't strapped down - she lashed out from the bed and kneed the woman in the stomach, stopping her before she could pump whatever poison lay within into the tube. The woman smacked a red button on the wall triggering a loud alarm and then tried to wrestle Natasha to back to the bed. The spy stuck the syringe into her chest, pushing down the plunger. Her assailant crumpled to the floor immediately, confirming the spy's suspicions that whoever had brought her here from the warehouse had only hostile intentions for her.

Natasha stumbled out of the room in a fog of pain and whatever drugs they had already used on her, leaning heavily on the wall and gritting her teeth to keep from crying out from the pain lancing through her abdomen. She clutched the empty syringe in one hand, the only weapon she had. Because of the alarm the lights had been turned off and switched to dim yellowy emergency bulbs. At least that what she thought, maybe her vision just wasn't what it should be. The spy was beyond caring where she was or who got in her way. She had nothing to live for and nothing to lose, but she refused to just die on that medical bed like a dog being put down by a faceless enemy.

The redhead shambled around a corner and caught a man in a dark uniform off-guard, whipping the back of her fist across his face, smirking as his head smacked the wall hard and he hit the floor with a heavy thud. But she could hear footsteps approaching. Maybe it was just her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears. She ducked into a large room with many long tables set up in it, some kind of mess hall perhaps. Natasha ducked behind a metal counter, leaning her sweaty brow against the cool steel and taking a ragged breath. She had no idea if anyone had seen her come in here and she didn't care. She would fight them off till her body shut down entirely.

"In here! Look you can see the blood on the floor!" A man shouted.

"What should we do? We can't shoot her – right?" Another man asked uneasily.

"She's a threat; did you see Evans out in the hallway? We need to subdue her and get her in a cell." She heard the metallic click of a gun being cocked and the Widow huddled further back against the counter, biting her lip and holding the syringe in front of her.

Clint was sitting in an exam room on the opposite end of the hall where they had put Natasha. He sat propped up on a metal table while a nurse gently rubbed burn cream onto his shoulder. His side where the bullet grazed him had a small bandage over it already and the archer hissed with pain as the nurse taped gauze over the fried skin of his shoulder.

"Don't be such a baby." the nurse teased, taping down the last corner of the bandage. She smiled to herself, enjoying the view of the shirtless man in front of her.

"Let me boil your skin and see how you handle someone jerking you around." he hissed back. He suddenly heard the sound of the alarm and his face grew concerned as the lights dimmed around them. The blonde nurse looked frightened as their eyes met and Clint jumped off the table.

"What are you doing?! You're supposed to stay put." the nurse explained, grabbing hold of his wrist.

"You really think you can keep me here?" he raised an eyebrow at her, tugging his hand away from her easily. He pushed through the door and looked down both ends of the hall seeing men running towards the mess hall and nurses frantically trying to figure out what had just happened.

Clint sprinted down the corridor in nothing but his hospital pants, towards the mess hall where all the ruckus was. He stepped over an inert man, bloodied and bruised, his body slumped up against the wall. The marksman's first thought was Natasha. Only she'd be capable of causing such a commotion.

He pushed open the doors of the mess hall seeing two men with guns drawn, aiming at Natasha who was frantically swinging what looked like an empty syringe at both of them and cursing in Russian. His body tensed with anger at the threat to his partner, he didn't care if any of these people were trying to help, he'd kill them all before he'd let them touch Natasha. She was fragile and they didn't understand that the darkness of her past still haunted her.

"Hey! Drop 'em!" he yelled at both men, stepping towards them. One guard turned to face the sound of Clint's voice and aimed his gun at him, telling him to back off and that this didn't concern him.

The agent calmly moved forward still, knowing full well that the guard wouldn't shoot him. He didn't have the guts. Clint grabbed the man's wrist, knocking the weapon free from his hand and catching it in his own. The archer hit the man with the butt of the gun, causing him to stumble to the side. Clint raised the gun, aiming it towards the other man, "Stand down or I'll shove that Glock so far up your ass, it'll come out the other end!" he yelled at him, his face deadly serious as he crept closer to the red head.

The other man covering the redhead winced at the dangerous glint in his superior's gray eyes and he immediately complied, setting his gun down on one of the mess tables.

"She- she assaulted a nurse and an agent. Watch yourself Barton, she's wild." He stammered, taking an involuntary step back at the furious glare the marksman shot at him. "I'll um, I'll go get them to turn off the alarm if you think you can get her back to medical. Uh, sir." He said with more respect.

Clint glared at the younger agent before him, "Yea you do that, kid." he stated flatly, lowering his gun as the man walked away. He turned to Natasha, cautiously moving closer to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha could hardly see straight.

The combination of pain and that damn alarm ringing in her ears was forcing dark memories to the surface of her mind. She had started her life as the Black Widow pinned down in a hospital like this… cornered, tortured, alone. She supposed it was the end she deserved after everything she had done.

A shadowy figure approached her, the first thing she registered was the gun in his hand and even if it wasn't aimed at her it soon would be. She assumed the man wanted the satisfaction of executing her at an intimate distance. He slowly knelt before her, saying something she couldn't understand through her panic and anger. But his quiet, deep voice made her heart beat a little slower somehow. He leaned closer and Natasha lashed out at him like a cornered animal with her one pitiful stolen claw, brandishing the syringe and cursing at him, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best.

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her swimming vision. The man was almost upon her now, she couldn't tell if he still had the gun or not. Finally her adrenaline ran out and she was left with only her sorrow and pain. "Just finish it, will you?" She rasped, shrinking back from him involuntarily when he reached out to her, both his hands empty and open. Her body was shaking from the stress of her injuries and sadness. "Please…" She mewled, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She wasn't sure what it was she was pleading for; mercy, a quick end, some way to go back in time and keep the one person she owed the only good parts of herself to from being utterly destroyed.

The archer knelt down beside her, "Natasha? I'm not gonna hurt you…" he spoke to her softly, placing the gun on the ground next to him. The redhead swung at him with the bloody syringe but that didn't keep him at bay. "Hey… Whoa, whoa. It's alright." He had to get her back to her room before she hurt herself worse and if that meant being jabbed with a needle a few times, so be it.

She begged him to get it all over with and sadness washed over his face, she was still so out of it she didn't realize it was him. "It's alright, Nat. It's me, Barton… its Clint ok?" he told her, easing his way closer to her. "We're in a SHIELD facility. You're safe… But you're hurt pretty bad." he explained, looking down at her bullet wound and then back at her face, her eyes full of tears.

His face finally came into focus, his calm, deep voice piercing the fog of pain and fear clouding her mind. Natasha held her breath as she struggled to digest the fact that her partner was alive when according to what she had seen he should be so much ash floating on the wind. Safe? Where was safe for her anymore?

She blinked at him rapidly and she repeated his name back to him, finally realizing it was only her partner there. He grinned warmly at her and nodded his head, "You gotta let me take you back to your room so you can get fixed up." he said slowly, hoping that she'd accept his help.

"Clint…" She murmured, her voice wispy from emotion and fatigue. The marksman gently extracted the syringe from her trembling hand that she couldn't seem to unclench on her own. He set the cylinder on the floor and smiled at her, the gentleness in his face was like a soothing balm to her raw and broken spirit.

Clint lifted Natasha in his arms, completely numb to his wounds as he carried her; she was his only thought, his only concern at the moment. He'd have time to hurt later. He saw her head fall to the side, looking over his bandaged shoulder with concern.

She had nothing left, not even the strength to grip him properly and help him support her weight, though he seemed to hardly notice the burden despite his injuries that she could now see marked out with white bandages all over his broad shoulders and down his side. There were a hundred things Natasha wanted to say to him as he carried her back down the hallway, but they clotted in her throat. She hoped Clint knew somehow that she was grateful he was alive – more grateful than she'd ever been in her whole life for anything. She hid her face against his bare chest, weeping silently. Safe… This was her safe place. He was her safe place.

She buried her face in his chest and Clint's heart clenched, a little surprised by the redhead's willingness to let her barriers down within the circle of his arms. He knew without her having to say a word, that she cared and worried about him too.

Clint's face was serious again as he held his partner in his arms, taking her back into her exam room. He looked around at the small group of people before him, his body tensing slightly, preparing himself for the argument he might have to make for his partner's actions.

The ranking physician at the base was waiting in the exam room with a nurse, two orderlies and three armed guards. The doctor peered over his glasses at the sight of one of SHIELD's finest cradling his little foundling Russian bird in his arms and grinned, shaking his head. If Natasha Romanov could wreak this kind of havoc in her current condition, he was certain she was soon going to be one of the organization's elites as well. Assuming she survived that long anyway. "Set her here please. I've got to check her wound and see if she's undone all my good work in surgery." The man prompted agent Barton to lay the woman on the hospital bed.

Natasha tensed up in his arms and Clint sensed her hesitation as her bright watery blue eyes met his own silver ones. "They're going to get you fixed up. Make sure you didn't hurt yourself more." he explained, letting her know she had to trust them, just enough to let them heal her. "I'm not going anywhere." he said quietly, his gaze soft and a faint comforting smile coming to the corners of his mouth. And he meant that. She was stuck with him for good, whether she liked it or not; they were a team.

The doctor looked sideways at the armed men who had been ordered here to guard the spy by the head of security. "I don't think she's capable of pulling any more stunts today gentlemen. Why don't you keep watch out in the hall and I'll call you if you're needed." The doctor nodded at the door pointedly as he spoke. The soldiers exchanged a weighted glance, appraising agent Barton and the woman in his arms. Finally they nodded and filed out into the hall to stand guard so they weren't technically disobeying their superior's orders.

Clint nodded his head as the men who'd been sent to stand guard and watch over Natasha, making sure she didn't escape again, exited. He was thankful that the doctor dismissed them, not enjoying the audience or the obvious distress their presence was causing his partner.

Natasha kept her eyes trained on her partner's face, his assurance that he would stay with her filled her with peace and finally eased the tension that had been twisting her gut up in knots. If she hadn't been so relieved that he was alive she would have berated herself for being so childish. Hadn't the thought that Clint was dead nearly unraveled her moments ago? And yet here she was, diving right back into the deep end putting her trust in him, allowing herself to be comforted by his presence in her sickroom.

Clint smiled as Natasha reached up from her bed for his hand and he was surprised by the tightness in his chest at the contact of their fingers. She squeezed his hand gently, smiling slightly up at the archer and shaking her head as she spoke. "Your bandage is bled through, Barton… You need to get checked out." she said quietly, nodding at the gauze on his side that had a crimson bloom seeping through it. It cost her everything to slip her mask back on, speak those words when all she wanted was for him to stay with her, to keep holding her icy fingers in his warm hand. But she couldn't ask that of him. He had already done enough for her for one day, and his wound had only opened because he had carried her back in here. The redhead winced as the physician started checking her gunshot wound and the nurse started a new IV in her arm. She made a mental note to feel bad about what she had done to that other nurse when she had just been trying to give her medicine; right now she was too tired and sore.

Clint glanced down at the bandage on his side, noticing that he was bleeding again. He didn't care though, it didn't hurt all that much and there wasn't enough blood to make him feel the need to leave her bed side.

Natasha tensed and Clint could tell she was desperately trying not to cry out in pain as the doctor began mending the stitches she'd torn out. "I'm all right, you can go…" She slurred, but still he didn't move from her side. Her blurry gaze remained locked on his till the pain medication the nurse gave her finally won out and wrapped her up in a blanket of blissful numbness. She fell into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted but comforted by the solid feeling of the archer's large hand wrapped around hers.

He never left, keeping hold on her hand and only allowing himself to break away from her grip long enough to let a nurse re-bandage his side, tug on a shirt and pull a chair up next to her bed. He propped his legs on the chair across from him, his eyes growing heavy.


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha woke from a sound, dreamless sleep several hours later.

She felt considerably more human, though she still felt her pulse throbbing in the wound in her side. She cracked her eyes open, finding she was still in the darkened medical room. The redhead sighed, wondering what kind of repercussions would arise from her panicked assault on the base personnel. She had managed to build up some credibility in the few months she'd been with SHIELD, and the thought of all that work being undone was disheartening.

She suddenly picked up on the sound of heavy breathing beside her and turned her head, smiling softly at what she found. Her partner was propped over two chairs, his head tipped back and his mouth slightly open as he slept. Natasha felt bolstered by his presence; just knowing that he had been watching over her while she slept was comforting.

Clint had managed to get a few hours of sleep in his makeshift bunk next to Natasha. As if he could feel her gaze on him, the archer stirred and yawned. He woke slowly, stretching his muscles as much as he could as he gingerly placed his feet on the hospital floor. He noticed she was up and a grin spread over his face. Natasha felt warmth flood her veins when he smiled at her, damn him. Clint was dangerous, what he made her feel was dangerous. He licked his lips, "Well good mornin'." he greeted his now awakened partner with a smile.

"I don't know how you manage to fall asleep in those positions, Barton." She said teasingly, wincing as she tugged herself up into a sitting position. Her feelings for Clint had been getting harder to write off as mere attraction of late, but she hadn't realized until last night how deep this man had gotten his hooks in her. When the bomb had gone off in the warehouse and she thought her partner dead, it had been the most horrendous pain she had ever experienced, and that was saying something. It terrified her how much she needed him in her life, how much a part of her he had become.

It was a foolish, dangerous need to harbor, and one she refused to examine more closely for fear of what she might be forced to admit. Natasha wanted Clint as her partner, they made an excellent team and there was no one else she trusted to watch her back. But anything beyond that was just asking for trouble.

As Clint looked over Natasha, his heartbeat quickened. "Oh it's not so hard," he groaned a little, resting his elbows on his knees. "When you're tired you're tired… Gotta work with what you've got, right?" Clint responded, grinning again; he'd slept in a tree or two, passed out on plenty of concrete floors and bunked in beat to shit cots when it was his only option, still managing to sleep. Maybe not comfortably but he slept none the less.

Natasha hated hospitals; she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Her plan had been to get out of the bed, but her vision swam when she moved and she fell back heavily on her elbow on the mattress. In the blink of an eye Clint was at her side, his hands gentle but firm on her shoulders as he helped her lie back down.

"Take it easy." The marksman urged, his voice quiet but firm. His brow furrowed as he looked down at his partner; It distressed him to see her lying there injured and in pain. He didn't know why the little redhead affected him so much. Well. He knew why, but it pained him to acknowledge that there was something about her, something about having her by his side that had changed him. Seeing her smile, that smile she so rarely let anyone else see, meant everything to him. It was like her smile was reserved just for him or something, and he didn't like not seeing it.

He shook his head slightly, realizing he still had his hands on her and was staring at her; he quickly snapped himself out of it. Natasha was his partner. Nothing else, there could never be anything else. Clint frowned as he took a step back from her bed, pulling his hands away, he forced a crooked smile. "You're gonna be difficult, aren't you?" he chuckled.

Natasha grinned up at him as he stood back from the bed, sighing again. "I'm not the one who's difficult to deal with; it's these damn doctors that insist on coddling their patients long after they require their care." The spy rolled her eyes. She still wasn't used to the extensive medical care SHIELD provided its agents, before Clint brought her in she'd mostly had to patch her own wounds. Bed rest was a luxury the Black Widow could seldom afford.

Clint chuckled, covering his mouth and shaking his head at her response. He didn't think anyone was as stubborn as he was about having someone take care of him. He didn't like feeling like he needed people and given Natasha's background, she was used to having to be strong and care for herself as well. The archer had grown at least a little more used to having SHIELD check and double check everything until he healed.

The humor in Natasha's eyes was replaced with seriousness as she forced herself to ask the question nagging at her mind. "Clint… why did you shoot Marek? I told you it might get ugly; you said you could handle that. We had a plan and you didn't stick to it." Raw emotion flashed across his silver eyes that he quickly pushed down, but she hadn't missed it. The spy smiled softly. "I trust you. And I need to know that you trust me in order for this partnership to work." She stated simply. She wasn't trying to berate him, but Natasha couldn't stand the thought of losing him again.

His face changed, showing his nervousness and frustration as he thought of Marek. The archer forced away any emotions he felt, looking down at the floor when she mentioned trusting him. She was right, he had to show he trusted her too. "I can't say that I know for sure, Nat…" he shook his head and shrugged his good shoulder, looking up to meet her gaze. "I knew the plan and I had every intention of sticking to it but… The way he was talking to you…" he thought about over hearing him call her a whore and he fidgeted with his hands.

"Then he went after you and… Well you're my partner. I care about you…" he half whispered the part about caring for her, afraid it'd creep her out. "…and I'm supposed to have your back. Plus, maybe I just wanted the satisfaction of killing the bastard myself." he suggested with a grin, but he knew that wasn't it, not completely. Hearing that he'd been one of her clients and knowing the man was a part of Natasha's dark past, it was more than satisfying seeing Marek's bloody body hit the ground.

"I know what I did was stupid and reckless. It could've got us both killed… Sorry I put us both in more danger." he murmured softly.

Natasha searched her partner's face, the way he was avoiding her gaze and shifting his weight from one leg to the other ever so slightly told her he had been more affected by watching her get threatened than he was letting on. It was a strange feeling, knowing there was someone who truly cared whether she lived or died. Stranger still to look at the man standing over her and realize she felt the same way about him. Was this what it felt like then; to let someone in, to have a connection with someone? This warmth in her veins and pressure on her heart that was equal parts yearning and fear… It wasn't something she'd ever experienced before, at least not this strongly.

Clint could tell in his own voice that he wasn't doing the greatest job of hiding his affection for Natasha. His stance and expression likely gave it away before he even opened his stupid mouth. Still, his partner didn't say anything about it; maybe she couldn't tell or simply didn't care, not wanting to bring up the subject for fear of what she might hear.

"It's all right, you don't have to apologize. I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page, so that next time…" Natasha looked around her hospital room with a wry grin, "Well, so that next time I don't accidentally assault a nurse." She chuckled lightly.

The archer didn't know if he was thankful or saddened by the fact that they didn't discuss it further. He chuckled deeply at her comment, "Yea I'd imagine they only let that slide once." he laughed again, meeting her soft blue gaze, "I don't think they much appreciated me threatening to shove inanimate objects up other agents body parts though either. Think we both might be in a bit of trouble for our actions… Don't worry, I think we're on the same page." he assured her, that page being clearly stamped 'Partners' he thought to himself, knowing that's not exactly what she had meant.

Natasha quirked her eyebrow at the archer, she hadn't heard the threat he had made in the mess hall being too caught up in her own pain and fear at the time. It amused her greatly to picture it though. "Why do I get the feeling we are going to make Fury constantly weigh our value to him as agents against the trouble we cause him?" She laughed softly, picturing the director's face when he read the report of last night's incident.

Clint turned and sat on the end of her bed, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he chuckled at her comment. "I certainly think we'll keep him on his toes." he sighed, letting his hands fall and gently grip the edge of the mattress.

She cocked her head at him, looking him up and down. "Thank you, Clint, for staying with me." She murmured. Natasha hadn't really meant to say the words out loud, but she didn't regret it after voicing them. There was a lot more she might have said, but then again they didn't need many words to understand each other.

Clint looked over at his partner as she thanked him, "Nat… You don't have to-" he cut himself off, "I wanted to, I put you in far more danger than that psychopath Marek… I needed to make sure you were alright." he smiled sweetly, resting his hand on hers and trying hard to ignore the voice telling him to lean in and take a chance as she kept her eyes trained on his. He broke their gaze and moved his hand away from hers, turning his attention to look out into the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

Nearly a month later and within the first 24 hours of Natasha being cleared for active duty, she and Clint were called in on assignment.

The ongoing conflict in Abidjan was a chaotic bloody mess with no end in sight, and the Security Council ordered SHIELD to unobtrusively step in and see if they couldn't turn the tide. The squads dispatched there were in desperate need of strong experienced leaders to spearhead the counter offensive. The Black Widow and the Hawk fit the bill.

When they first landed Clint and Natasha exchanged a heavy glance, things were pretty bad out there and they both knew it before even having to see the battlefield outside. Instantly they went into work mode and the archer began instructing other agents, telling them how to rework their strategy to move the enemy back. The most important thing was getting the refugees to a more secure location.

Natasha busied herself slipping around and through the line of fire, disabling explosives and taking out communication lines in the torn up abandoned buildings in the area. She kept in contact with her partner the whole time as he directed his team and picked off enemies with his superior sniping skills. The group was thinning out and Clint was confident that his men could finish the job themselves as he ran back to his previous position, killing off any stragglers within the city. Confused without their radio chatter and unable to replace their numbers as quickly as they were being taken out, the enemy began to retreat and Clint and Nat's strike force started making headway.

"Agent Romanov, they've closed down the street two blocks east of your location. There's a group of civilians holed up in the factory in the yellow zone. We need reinforcements to get the street clear so they can make a run for the secure area." An agent's voice came over Natasha's com and she quickly acknowledged it, clicking over to the channel she shared with Clint.

"Hawkeye, things are good here for now. We need to get to the east block of the yellow zone and help Simmons." She told him, looking over a broken section of wall and seeing her partner busily shooting down enemies from behind a concrete barricade down the road. She made her way to him, firing her guns as she went.

Clint heard his partner's voice come over his com as he worked, "Sure thing. Let's get this done." he replied, peeking around the wall and spotted Natasha, making her way towards him. He smirked at her; there was something about being on the job with her again that excited him. The archer kept his eye on her, raising his bow and quickly shooting down one man who'd been hot on her heels. "Took you long enough." he teased her.

Natasha shot him a cheeky grin as she took her place beside him, emptying a clip and discarding it, efficiently reloading her weapons and doing a cursory glance of the area. She caught her partner's gaze and tossed her head at the alley to their left. "Let's head down that way, we can cut through what's left of the old Mosque and come right out where Simmons group is holding their position." She suggested, firing off a few more rounds as she spoke.

The pair slowly worked their way over to the narrow passage, covering each other without having to think twice about coordinating their movements. As soon as they reached the relative safety of the alley between the buildings they broke out into a run, quickly reaching the ravaged mosque. The building beside it was taking fire, putting pressure on the SHIELD group on the other side of the block. It wouldn't be long before the mosque itself would be fired on if they didn't help turn the tide.

Clint followed closely behind Natasha, tossing his bow over his back, his arrows running low as he replaced his weapon of choice with the glock strapped to his thigh. He had covered his partner the entire run to the alleyway. The archer hadn't picked up anyone tailing them but he couldn't shake the sense that something was coming. It put him on edge.

Natasha darted inside the mosque with weapons ready and sprinted down an ornately decorated hallway, Clint right on her heels. Suddenly the earth rumbled beneath their feet and Natasha whipped her head around just in time to see the wall erupting inwards on them. She grabbed Clint's flak vest and threw herself backwards into an open doorway, yanking him along with her just out of the way of an avalanche of debris from the explosion. The room turned out to be a tiny closet of some kind and her back slammed against the opposite wall, knocking the breath from her lungs. Clint surged up against her in the wake of the blast wave, and the wall heaved and toppled down on them.

It was only by the grace of the God Natasha had forsaken long ago or sheer dumb luck that the building didn't collapse completely. The wall and several support beams from the ceiling had caved in but stopped just short of crushing the agents to death. The dust settled and Natasha found her breath again, panicking for an instant because she couldn't move. She and Clint were wedged so tightly together in the crevice under the debris that she was unable to turn or even move her arms that were pinned to her sides.

Clint was pressed up hard against Natasha's small frame, a sharp cough escaping from his lips as he inhaled a cloud of dust. The air cleared and he realized his arms were pressed up against the wall behind his partner, his body hunched slightly as though on instinct he'd used his body as a makeshift shield.

Their faces were so close Natasha could see the dust particles sticking to the archer's sweaty neck and the scruff on his jaw. She met his silver eyes and managed to cough, "Are you all right?"

Clint raised his head looking into Natasha's eyes, his breath hot against her face; their bodies tight against each other, not that he wasn't enjoying the contact of her warm presence against him. "Yeah. Fine…" he breathed, keeping his voice low as though if he spoke too loud it might shift the few pieces holding up the rubble above them. He tried in vain to shift his weight and pull back away from her, but there was no clearance with the large support beam right up against his back.

"You?" he barely managed to say through a hacking breath, trying to keep his focus on Natasha's face and not the incredible closeness of both their bodies. His eyes darted back and forth between hers and he swallowed hard, fighting that same urge he'd felt after their last mission together.

Natasha felt her gut unclench a little when her partner told her he was unhurt. She tested each muscle group, the best she could manage was to wriggle her legs a little and turn her head. She was well and truly stuck. The spy gingerly maneuvered her head to look over both of Clint's shoulders, her nose brushing his chin and jaw as she appraised their situation. It didn't look like there was an opening big enough to fit through assuming they actually could move.

"I'm okay…" She responded breathlessly, becoming acutely aware of every inch of contact their bodies shared. Clint's hard, muscled frame was aligned seamlessly with her own, his chest pressing against hers with every breath he took. He was staring down at her, and though his face was grim and deadly serious the heat coming off his silver gaze made her heart race and warmth pool in her lower abdomen.

An explosion rattled their bones and the walls around them, but Natasha hardly noticed it. She was trapped in Clint's bottomless, hungry gaze and every fiber in her body was screaming want. "We should try to radio for help." The redhead murmured, trying to bring her focus back to the very real danger they were in. Then again, if they were about to die anyway…

Clint's gaze remained on Natasha, waiting for her response which he barely heard through his own desire making his pulse pound in his ears. She moved to look around his shoulders as best she could, their weight shifting together as she rolled herself slightly to the side. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself as she looked back up at him. "Probably…" he responded huskily.

He felt her breath against his lips as she craned her neck up, his own head angling down in an attempt to finally capture her plump red lips. He growled her name lightly, their lips only a whisper apart from each other.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 6... And soooo much more to come. ;)

In the same heartbeat another blast rocked the building.

One corner of their precarious prison blew out and the whole mess of rubble shook violently above them. The assassins jolted from the impact, a Russian curse escaping Natasha's lips as debris flew up and struck her leg. She angled her head to look down at the opening. It seemed fate was just as willing to give as take away today.

When the blast hit the archer had instinctively used his larger frame to shelter his partner, pressing their bodies close to the steadiest wall, ducking his head down and somewhat covering Natasha's own skull. He heard her curse and felt her body tensing as she winced. They both looked down and spotted the small opening.Great timing. Couldn't give me a few more seconds. Clint thought sardonically.

The redhead glanced back up at Clint, forcing herself to refocus on the mission. "I think I can get out, then you should have room to follow." She panted, pushing her hips forward into his to give herself enough space to twist her lower half sideways as much as possible. The redhead gasped a little at the contact; she hoped her partner would attribute it to the strain of trying to move and not the fact that it felt amazing even with layers of clothing and gear between them.

Clint nodded his head agreeing that it'd be easier if she slid out first, allowing him more space to move freely and work his way out behind her. She started slowly sliding down his body and he clenched his fists above his head against the wall.

Natasha's curvaceous figure rubbed against his front and his breathing became uneven as he looked down at her, a soft gasp falling from her lips as she moved against him. Every fiber of his being wanted her but his mind was yelling at him to stay in control. She managed to make her way between his feet, having to climb under him to get through the opening. Their eyes met again and he could only hope that she couldn't hear his erratic breathing and his heart beating against his chest.

Natasha tried to ignore the desire that the adrenaline and their closeness had welled up inside her, looking up at him and realizing that was a mistake. The raw desire in his silver eyes was enough to make her slick with need, and it took a considerable amount of will for her to tear her gaze away and put a tight lid on her response to him so she could focus on crawling out of the narrow opening in the wrecked wall.

The spy exited and Clint turned himself around, taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself. It'd been a long time since he'd been that close to a woman and nothing happened. And he'd never wanted someone so much and in the same way as he wanted that little redhead. He desperately tried to regain his focus, letting out a broken breath as he gathered himself.

He pushed his bow through along with his quiver to meet him on the opposite side. He slid down, coaxing his legs through the opening and managing to squeeze his frame through the tiny space he had available, he was much larger than his partner and in all honesty he half expected that he might get himself stuck.

Clint emerged a moment later, having to force his way out of the narrow gash in the cement, his shoulders knocking chunks of the crumbling wall loose. He stood and his partner looked him up and down, nodding at him as they both confirmed the other was undamaged, at least not in any way that couldn't wait till later.

The assassins immediately slipped back into work mode, crossing the street and finding Simmons and his group fighting further down in the ruins of the city. In much the same way that they had reorganized the west quadrant; the agents quickly divided the group in two, Clint took one squad while Natasha took the other. Hours of brutal fighting finally gave them the desired result of pushing back the enemy enough so the refugees trapped in the city block could evacuate to a confirmed safe zone.

Clint led the group of people to a triage area to get food and UN medical treatment, Natasha worked with the new reinforcements that arrived a little after sundown on their strategy for when the lull in the fighting stopped. It could be days, it could be minutes, but at least they had managed to contain the situation and save a lot of people. They would continue fighting here until they could resolve the conflict or were called out elsewhere, but for now both agents had sustained several small injuries and were sent back to the safe house to recover for the next day's battle.

Clint and Natasha had worked long into the night. The image of his partner standing pressed seamlessly against his own frame, her eyes full of what he thought was desire, haunted the back of the archer's mind. Natasha played these games well. He doubted that she'd toy with him in such a way; hoping he wasn't mistaken and it wasn't just that moment that she wanted him simply because he might be the last face she saw.

They made it back separately, but they made a point of finding each other and checking in before heading to their rest. The redhead walked over to her partner, limping slightly but with only a few scrapes and bruises besides her leg. Nothing she hadn't dealt with before. "God I need a shower and a week of sleep after a day like that." Natasha quipped, grinning at her partner. He smiled warmly at her in greeting, chuckling at her comment as his throat ran dry. He shifted his weight to the side a little, trying to convince his mind not to wander to images of Natasha's bare porcelain skin… Dripping with water and covered in delicious smelling suds…

"You check out okay? How's the arm?" she asked him, motioning at the bandage around his upper arm.

Natasha's question pulled him back and he looked down at his arm with confusion. He blinked and tried to think, did he even get checked out? God he couldn't remember with her eyes on him. The bandage wrapped around his bicep reminded him, "Oh… Uh yes I'm good. Checked out fine." he responded with a smile. He shrugged, his injuries hadn't been all that bad, a few bumps and bruises, his upper arm took the worst of the damage. He had been crawling out of the gap in the cement after Natasha, scraping against the jagged concrete as he freed himself, slicing open his arm in the process. He'd patched himself up, the doctors were busy and Clint knew enough about what he was doing that a few stitches was an easy fix. "It's not as bad as it probably looks." he chuckled, "Self sewing job… How are you? Did you get cleared yet?"

Natasha made a tsking sound and grinned as she examined his bandage more closely. "Yes I'm fine, nothing a stiff drink and sleep won't cure. I guess I'll just have to settle for the latter," she said with a wry chuckle. The redhead stepped closer and unwound the gauze he'd unevenly patched his arm with, double checking his stitches before re-wrapping it more securely. The spy avoided meeting the archer's gaze that she could feel burning into the top of her head as she worked, afraid of what might be exposed in her eyes if she did.

Clint chuckled and nodded his head in agreement, "Certainly could go for both." he grinned. He half rolled his eyes when Natasha began checking him over but didn't mind her gentle touch as she unwrapped the gauze around his arm. He didn't normally like having someone take care of him, but with her it was comforting and he liked it.

Being close, touching him and feeling his warm breath on her hair brought Natasha right back to the mosque and the intense feeling of being flush up against her partner and not knowing if their next breath would be their last. If she looked up at Clint now, Natasha was certain she wouldn't be able to stop herself from grabbing his face and forcing him into a deep, desperate kiss. That wouldn't exactly be appropriate in the middle of the triage center.

The archer's eyes scanned over his partner as she rewrapped his bandage a little neater. Just hours ago they'd been trapped in the remains of the mosque, pressed up against each other. He couldn't deny how badly he wanted to be that close to her again, maybe without the dangerous surroundings this time.


	7. Chapter 7

The redhead cleared her throat as she stepped back from him, managing a quick glance at his eyes and a half smile before she had to avert her gaze again.

 

“Well. Get some rest, we’ve got to meet with the other squad leaders tomorrow and see what progress we’ve made.” She commented, resisting the urge to grab his hand and drag him back to her bunk with her. She couldn’t just risk the most valuable thing she had, their friendship, by acting on her pent up desires… could she?

He smiled crookedly back at her, “Yea, You too. I’ll see you early tomorrow. Good night, Nat.” he responded as she slipped away heading back to her quarters.

Natasha quickly retreated to her room. It wasn’t in the best state of repair or the cleanest, but she’d bedded down in much worse places. The water pressure was pitiful and the water was lukewarm but she decided that was for the best, since she couldn’t get Clint out of her mind no matter how hard she tried and it was making her burn from the inside out.

The more she ran those moments in the mosque through her mind, the more she became convinced. Clint was her partner, her best friend, but she couldn’t keep denying there was a lot more between them. Recalling the heat in his eyes made her quiver with need for him. She had almost lost him again today, and the spy was certain the universe wasn’t going to give her any more second chances. Finally Natasha made up her mind and turned off the water. She toweled off and pulled on a pair of soft black yoga pants and a black tank top then slipped silently to her partner’s quarters, her fiery curls damp and her feet bare in her rush to get to him.

 

The archer had made it back to his room, lost in thought as he rinsed the grit and grime of the day away. He stood there for a long while letting the water stream over his face. He couldn’t get Natasha out of his head no matter what he did or how hard he tried to think about other things. He could have sworn he saw her hesitate to leave him tonight, like she had something more she wanted to say to him or something else she wanted from him. Earlier that day… Could he blame it all on the rush, the thought that they might not make it out? She seemed like she wanted to kiss him too. He climbed out of the shower, taking the opportunity to shave his scruff and brush his teeth hoping he could shut his mind off enough to let himself sleep.

He had no such luck. Clint was pacing in his quarters in a black tee and dark grey sweats. There was no way he’d be able to get any sleep until he knew what was going on between them. He was so conflicted, telling himself over and over that Natasha was his partner and he couldn’t allow himself to get attached, the problem being he already was. He wanted her… Damn he wanted her.

Natasha knocked lightly at Clint’s door and let herself in without waiting for him to answer, afraid that she would talk herself out of this if she hesitated for even an instant. She shut the door behind her and strode into the center of his room, every muscle taut and every nerve ablaze.

“Nat?” Clint questioned her, confused. Why would she come to see him so late? She didn’t turn to face him when he spoke, her chin tipped downwards and her gaze trained on the floor. He looked her over, dressed in a form fitting tank and yoga pants, revealing every curve of her body and making the archer struggle to regain himself enough to speak again. “What are you doing? Is everything alright?”

“We need to talk about what happened this afternoon. About what almost happened.” She said in a low voice. The archer approached her, gently gripping her arm and starting to apologize. She whipped around and pressed her fingertips to his lips, silencing him. “Don’t.” She said softly but adamantly. The redhead stepped into his space, her chest pressing against his and echoes of the sensations from earlier in the day made her heart pound. Her hand swept from Clint’s mouth along his strong jaw and up into his sandy hair, gripping it gently.

Her blue gaze flickered between his silver eyes and she thought she ought to say something to him; how she had felt when they were trapped, what he meant to her. But instead she simply stood on her toes and sealed her lips to his in a deep, searing kiss. Natasha angled her head, slanting her mouth over his for better access and tasting him hungrily until he finally recovered from his shock over her actions to kiss her back.

The redhead moaned in her throat as Clint’s tongue slid against hers, desire surging through her body as his arms wrapped around her and crushed her to his muscled frame. She didn’t even realize they were moving until he drove her back against the wall, one hand sweeping down to grip her thigh and drag her leg up to wrap around his hip. Natasha gripped on to him and ground her center against the straining bulge in his sweatpants, her nails biting into his shoulders as their tongues battled for dominance.

The archer bit her lip, grunting into her mouth as he felt her grinding herself against his arousal. God he wanted her. More than anything he wanted her. He tried to tell himself to stop, to break away before things went too far. But the taste of her lips and the feeling of her body aligned with his made it impossible to tell her no—to tell himself no.

Natasha gasped when Clint’s mouth left hers to bite and suck at her neck, he felt even better than she’d imagined he would. He practically tore off her tank and little thrills coursed up and down her body as his tongue traced the edge of her bra, dipping into her cleavage and nipping her fullness. He glanced up at her, silently asking permission to see more.

She flushed at his gaze. Natasha had never been with a man that could make her heart race with only a look. Without hesitation she pulled off the last remaining fabric covering her top half, he took in the sight of her and she smiled at him devilishly as she began coaxing his head down to her chest, moaning when his mouth latched on to the stiffened rosy peak of her breast, his callused fingers teasing and tweaking its twin. “God Clint…” she moaned brokenly, her body burning up from the inside out with her need for him. The spy twisted her fingers into his hair and tugged his face back up to hers, “Take me to that bed—now,” she demanded, eyes darting to the thin mattress over the archer’s shoulder; kissing him deeply and nipping at his lower lip to emphasize her need.

Clint quirked an eyebrow at her demanding tones as she pulled his head away from her chest. He wasn’t at all sorry that she broke their contact only to ask for more from him. He hooked his hand around the backside of her other leg and lifted her up into his arms, kissing her ravenously.

Natasha automatically wrapped her legs around his waist as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. It was not the most luxurious of settings certainly, but she didn’t give any kind of damn. She needed more of him, never mind anything else. Never mind the threadbare sheets, the musty smell of the decaying building or the sound of explosions in the distance. All that mattered to her was getting as close to her partner as possible.

The archer placed her on the bed, their lips meeting again briefly as he worked his way down to her chest once more. He fondled her breasts, kissing every inch of her body hungrily as he made his way downward. He mouthed her through the fabric of her pants, making her writhe and pant with need, running his hands up and down her toned thighs. He grabbed hold of the thin fabric of her pants and her now soaked panties, pulling them off her hips in one smooth motion.

Natasha bit her lower lip in anticipation as Clint stripped her bare. Somehow she had known, even before she’d started seriously fantasizing about being with her partner, that the marksman was the kind of man who would put his lover first.

His breath was ragged as he admired her naked body, his heated gaze flashed from the slickness between her thighs then up to Natasha’s face and back. Clint leaned in, lapping up her juices and teasing her clit with his tongue. He greedily devoured her, thrusting his tongue into her center before replacing it with two knobby fingers to stroke her walls while his dexterous tongue put her clit through the most delicious torture she’d ever received.

He pressed his fingers deeper into her core, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. “Oh God Clint… Fuck, yes just like that… Clint!” Natasha cried out, her hips bucking up to his face as she came around his hand. She panted desperately for breath as he drew out her orgasm with the swirling motion of his tongue, her muscles shuddering and going slack she came down from her high. Clint withdrew his fingers shining with her slickness and smirked down at her, sucking off his knobby digits.

Natasha sat up and kissed him deeply, enjoying that she could taste herself on him. Her hand snaked down between their bodies and she slipped under his sweats and briefs, wrapping her fingers around his long, thick length and purring with satisfaction at how big he was. Her thumb stroked his weeping tip and he growled low in his throat. “You have far too many clothes on, Barton.” She chided him in a breathless voice, pushing at the hem of his sweats with her free hand encouraging him to shed his troublesome garments.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry it took awhile to update but I hope you guys enjoy part 8!

He growled in his throat and grinned at her words as she tugged at his sweats with her free hand.

 

He pulled away from her, tugging his shirt over his head and freeing himself of his remaining clothing.

Natasha admired her partner’s chiseled frame from head to toe. She had seen Clint in varying states of undress many times, but seeing him now hot and hard and hungry for her was the most incredible thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. “Better?” he asked, a small laugh escaping his lips as she grabbed his wrist and hooked one leg around his waist, forcing his weight down on top of her again.

He leaned over her and she yanked him down closer. “Yes, much.” she replied as she craned her head up to bite and suck at his corded neck. Clint rocked his hips into hers, teasing her clit with his erection and moaning as Natasha’s lips found his throat, nibbling at the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. His breath caught and his hands ran down her sides, pulling her legs up higher around his waist. Natasha fell back to the mattress as she watched him with anticipation. Clint met her gaze and joined their bodies, moaning her name as he began to move inside her.

The spy gripped his short sandy hair and tugged his face to meet hers in a wild, biting kiss. He thrust into her harder and she rocked her hips up in time with his rhythm, driving him deeper inside her body. He was almost too much for her to take; stretching her and stroking all the sensitive places inside her making her see stars. He gripped her leg and let his weight fall sideways, she followed his movement and rolled atop him without disconnecting their bodies.

Natasha’s blue eyes were almost black with desire as she rode him, loving the way his hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks as he fought off his release. She could feel her pleasure threatening to unravel her from within, her full breasts bouncing as she quickened her motions.

Natasha leaned into him, her lips brushing against his jaw and she whispered against his skin, “I want to feel you come inside me Clint…” her words making him shudder under her hands. The redhead gasped and cried out as her orgasm claimed her, her most feminine muscles fluttering and clenching around his hard shaft as he followed her over the edge. They rode out their orgasms together and Natasha dipped forward again, pulling his face up to meet hers in a soft sweet kiss. “Damn…” he panted with a small chuckle. She smiled softly at his exclamation, savoring the feel of him being buried in her body for a moment longer. Finally she rolled off of his body and settled on her side next to him.

The bed was small, so even without trying to she was mostly resting up against him, but she didn’t nuzzle into him like she wanted to. Natasha was surprised at her own urge to melt into his warmth, she had never been with a man that she felt any desire to ‘cuddle afterwards’ with. It was a strange feeling, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to nurture. That was something lovers did, something couples did… Natasha couldn’t even begin to define what she and Clint were, and she didn’t want to.

Clint smiled as Natasha lay down beside him and he rolled over onto his side to meet her gaze. His fingers trailed softly up and down the curve of her side as he looked at her. Natasha pushed down the troublesome thoughts tugging at her mind and simply enjoyed the feel of him touching her and the warmth in his silver gaze.

Despite having just slept together, Clint’s heart still pounded in his chest and his stomach churned as she smiled at him. He didn’t know what they were now besides partners, but he knew what he wanted. Was it an option though? The archer could sense Natasha’s hesitation to get close to him and he could see on her face that she was feeling confused too. “What are you thinking?” he asked her quietly, resting his free hand under his head. He knew to some extent what was running through her head, he knew her well enough to know that she was grappling with some of the same questions and thoughts he was. Them being more than partners, it could work—he hoped to God or whatever there was out there, that it could.

Natasha’s insides clenched with apprehension at his question. The archer was looking at her in a way he never had before, his silver eyes full of dangerous unspoken affection. Her heart flipped over, filling with a foolish yearning to hear him put that affection into words for her and her alone. She wanted to cling to him and never let go—which was exactly why she had to push him away.

“I was thinking that you’re quite exceptional in more ways than just marksmanship, Barton.” She smiled and sat up from the bed, making herself slip her mask back on even though her heart wrenched to do it. The spy reached down and retrieved her pants from the floor, shaking them out and pulling them on.

Clint quirked a brow at her uncertainly and half smiled in response to her answer. They really weren’t going to talk about what had just happened and how it changed things between them? Maybe nothing had really changed and he’d just been naive to think that he wasn’t just another one of her play things. She acted as if this was just another day, like what they did didn’t matter, he didn’t matter. He refused to accept that thought. Deep down the archer knew that this was Natasha being Natasha, fighting her feelings, running away from any emotion she felt and clinging to her barriers in a desperate attempt to push him away.

Natasha could feel Clint’s eyes tracking her every movement as she got up and fetched her strewn bra and tank top, donning them quickly without meeting his gaze directly again. The air between them was getting heavier every second; it cut her deep knowing how much her making light of what they had just done would hurt him.

She padded to his door, looking back and giving him a small, playful smirk. “It really is too bad we waited so long to get that out of our system, da? We’ll have to do it again sometime.” She quipped, pulling his door open a crack and checking the hall.

Clint had been with many women, and usually he was the one to gather his things and duck out early, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, using the old, ‘It was fun… I’ll call you sometime’ but leaving them hanging. Now he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end, watching the one you wanted leaving you exposed and alone.

The marksman forced himself to laugh but it was a faint attempt at best, “Uhh—Yea.” he managed, nodding his head. At least she was looking at him again. Perhaps for now meaningless sex was all she was capable of, it was probably all she knew how to deal with. He could only hope he could change that in her and show her that they could have a whole lot more if she’d just give it a chance.

The hall was vacant. The redhead opened the door further and added over her shoulder, “Get some rest, our meeting is at 6 am.” She slipped out his door and back down the hall to her room, reminding herself that how sick she felt brushing him off was exactly the reason it had to be done.

He nodded his head in response. “Yea 6 o’clock.” he repeated as she exited his room, silently closing the door behind her. Clint pulled his sheet up and collapsed back against the tiny mattress, running a hand through his hair and over his clean shaven face with a sigh. Was he being stupid? Had he read too much into everything before and she really didn’t have any deeper feelings towards him? Maybe it was all lust and simply physical attraction…


	9. Chapter 9

Clint woke early the next morning for their meeting.

 

SHIELD had been called in as a method of last resort by the UN and they’d do their very best to clear out the combat zone and save as many civilians as possible. Though it didn’t seem they’d be able to complete the job entirely on their own, the government wanted them to step in and attempt to salvage what was left of the area. Technically they weren’t there, the UN just wanted them to quietly turn the tide and save as many people as possible.

Natasha and Clint offered their wealth of experience to supplement the tactics devised by the leaders that had been there for a while and knew the territory best. As they worked the redhead kept feeling Clint’s eyes on her, she did her best to ignore the weighted glances he directed at her every time their eyes met. He obviously was not satisfied with how they had left things last night and truthfully neither was she, but she pushed down her personal issues and focused on the task at hand.

She didn’t need to think about it, it was a matter of adding up the facts. She couldn’t give Clint what he needed, what he deserved from a relationship. Natasha knew she was broken beyond repair; it was childish to try and pretend otherwise. So she would content herself with being his partner and his friend, and if they happened to enjoy each other’s company in a more intimate way now and again, she certainly wouldn’t mind. But that was all. The spy would gladly suffer silently if it meant she could at least have that much. It was more than she had any right to ask for.

Their tour in Abidjan continued and Clint and Natasha avoided direct contact, but of course they ran into each other, exchanging heavy glances and saying little. Even when the spy wasn’t around, the archer was distracted by her. He respected the space she had set between them, fighting to adjust and be okay with it but his thoughts were rarely anything involving the job. He knew it was dangerous and now wasn’t the time to be concerned about what they were to each other but he couldn’t help himself. He knew she was ignoring her affection towards him, pushing him away and pretending there wasn’t something there. She had to feel it too; there was no way that his love for her wasn’t returned. Wait… Shit. He loved her? He’d never loved someone, never felt like he needed someone in such a way that he needed his partner.

It was a strange thought. Clint had never expected himself to wanted relationship with someone, and yet here he was. He wanted her; more than anything. He was fairly certain she felt the same way, he just had to show her somehow that she was capable of loving someone; that it was safe to let her guard down enough to give them a chance.

Natasha had been doing some solo recon in the ruins of the city and just managed to escape the full blast of a hidden mine in the wall of an abandoned building. When she limped back to base she heard on her com that several refugees had just been brought in for medical care, so she slipped carefully to her quarters, not wanting to take away from people who really needed the attention of the physicians when she could make do on her own.

The redhead stripped off her catsuit to the waist, wincing as the splinters of wood and metal in her back and shoulder were jarred. She turned to appraise the damage in the cracked mirror, craning her head back as best she could. She cursed under her breath in Russian; she would be able to reach some of the shrapnel but not all of it. Less than a month ago she would have thought nothing of going to her partner; he would’ve patched her up without her even having to ask.

But now, after the way things had been between them – Natasha shook her head. She was being childish again. She was letting her feelings cloud her judgement. The simple fact was she needed help, and if she couldn’t rely on her partner then who could she turn to? Lacking the wherewithal to pull her suit back on, she clicked on the com that was still in her ear. “Barton, are you awake?” She asked quietly, hoping he was but also hoping he wasn’t.

It was fairly late when Clint had finally got back to his bunk. He’d spent hours clearing out refugees with a few other agents and then had immediately picked up the slack directing people they had rescued to the physicians for medical attention and protecting the route to the safe house from enemies.

The archer had just started to undress himself, pulling off his flak vest and unbuckling his belt, removing the multiple weapons strapped to his body. Stripping down to the barest bits of his uniform, his skin was damp and itchy with sweat and he desperately wanted a shower. He heard the sound of Natasha’s voice come over his com that was still in his ear. His body tensed at the sound, they hadn’t really talked much since they slept together. Things were tense between the pair and as much as he hated it he didn’t know how to diffuse it. “Yea I’m up. What’d you need?” he asked her in an even tone, surprised at himself for managing a neutral tone of voice when he opened his mouth.

Natasha explained what had happened to her on the field, needing his help despite how much she clearly did not want to ask him. He immediately put aside his apprehensions and told her he’d be right over. No matter what they were still partners and he’d do whatever was needed to keep her safe and whole. He slipped quietly down the hall to his partner’s room, knocking lightly and taking a deep breath as he let himself in. He spotted Natasha looking at him through her mirror, looking over the jagged edges of shrapnel sticking out of her shoulder. Clint’s eyes widened and his heart beat quickened at the sight of her with her cat suit peeled down to her waist, revealing her lacy edge black bra. He cleared his throat and stepped closer to her, gently prompting her to brace herself against the dresser so he could get a good look at her back and shoulder.

“Jesus, you sure as hell sugar coated it, didn’t you? ’A few’ pieces of shrapnel stuck in your shoulder?” He repeated her words, shaking his head and furrowing his brow as he appraised the damage. “Nat, your shoulder’s covered. Some stuff’s pretty deep too. I hate to tell you this but it’s not gonna be comfortable while I dig it out.” He told her, his eyes wandering from her injuries over her bare creamy chest reflected in the mirror and he quickly averted them elsewhere.

Natasha chuckled at his words. She watched her partner’s face in the mirror as his silver eyes looked over her wounds first then slid over her body for an instant before he regained control. She felt her skin prickle with want and her heartbeat quicken just from the feeling of his eyes on her bare flesh, cursing her inability to control her response to his closeness.

“I can take it. I’ve had worse, after all.” Natasha quipped, snapping open the medical kit on the dresser for him so he could get started. Clint knew better than anyone else in the world how true that statement was.

Clint dug through the medical kit and began his work, slowly and efficiently using the tweezers on his partner’s skin. The redhead winced, biting her lip to keep from crying out as he worked at a particularly deep splinter of wood just below her shoulder blade. The archer worked as carefully as he could, removing each and every bit of debris then gingerly cleaning each wound. He knelt low, pulling out one of the last pieces in her back, having to pull down the fabric of her catsuit. He daubed at that last wound, pressing his free hand to the bare skin at the base of her spine, gently blowing on the cut.

Natasha was having trouble keeping her breathing even, not from the pain but from something else entirely. She could feel his warmth radiating against her back, his touch, his breath as he gently blew on the last wound he cleaned. He straightened again and set down the tweezers and gauze on the top of the dresser, peering over her shoulder in the mirror, his silver gaze molten with desire.


	10. Chapter 10

The archer was just as affected by their closeness as she was.

He scanned Natasha’s body again, framing her smaller figure with his larger one and brushing his lips over one of the scratches on her shoulder blade. He whispered her name against her skin, his voice hoarse with want. She didn’t move away, didn’t resist the sudden contact when he pulled her back against his front and kissed a heated trail from her shoulder up the pale column of her neck. His hand on her lower back slid around to her front and pressed her hips back against his, when she still offered no resistance his mouth wandered up to bite at her earlobe and Natasha mewled desperately at the contact.

Natasha turned in his arms and pressed herself against his muscled frame, gripping his sandy hair with both hands and kissing him ravenously. She wanted him so desperately, needed in him ways she refused to admit to herself and so she simply focused on how good he felt and tasted. Clint tensed, hesitating for a moment as the voice of reason pierced the fog of his desire, telling him they shouldn’t do this again. They shouldn’t screw with each other’s emotions like this… But damn he wanted her. The redhead sensed his reluctance to kiss her back and nipped at his lower lip, refusing to let him think better of his slip of kissing her shoulder a moment ago.

She hooked her hands under the hem of his dark sleeveless shirt and yanked it up as they kissed, letting her nails skid up his hard abs as she removed it. He groaned in his throat, wincing at the sensation of her nails biting at his skin, it was all it took to win him over. She threw his shirt aside and his mouth claimed hers again. The warning voice in his head was silenced for the moment and he matched the passion of her kiss and she unhooked her bra, tugging it off her front without breaking contact with him.

Clint felt her bare chest rub up against his and he tilted his head, leaning down to kiss and bite at her throat. Whatever they had been before and whatever they were to each other now, in this moment they simply needed each other. He justified letting this continue by telling himself maybe this time would be different, maybe she’d stick around afterwards and open up more to him.

Natasha was burning up from within, now that her body knew how much pleasure Clint could give her, her need for him was even more intense than it had been before when she had only imagined what it might be like to be with her partner. She pressed herself up against his frame, relishing the feeling of his heated skin against hers. Her hands slid down between them and she practically tore his pants off, unable to get him undressed fast enough. A deep, primal growl rumbled in Clint’s chest as she stroked his length through his briefs, throbbing with want for her now. She trailed her lips along his jaw and down to bite at his corded neck. His skin was hot and salty from the sweat of the day. She didn’t mind it, but at the same time the idea of him taking her in the shower… She got wetter just thinking about it. “Come with me,” she murmured, taking his hand that was gripping her waist and leading him to her tiny bathroom that was really little more than a tiled closet.

Natasha turned the water on, looking back over her shoulder at him with a playful smile as she wriggled the rest of the way out of her catsuit, taking her panties off along with it. He followed suit with the last of his clothing and was immediately on her again, his erection thick and hard against her abdomen as they backed into the shower. Their lips met as the water streamed over their dust and sweat-covered bodies, rinsing away the day’s grit and blood.

As much as Natasha was tempted by the thought of Clint pinning her to the shower wall, she didn’t think the wounds on her back would enjoy it as much as the rest of her would. So the spy turned away from the archer, bracing her forearms on the shower wall and grinding her toned ass against Clint’s hardness. He immediately took her unspoken invitation and pressed his lower half against her, mindful of her injuries as he placed bites and kisses across her neck and shoulders where her skin was undamaged.

Clint moaned against the back of her neck as he guided her hips back into him, thrusting himself deep inside her core. His mind went completely blank of any thoughts beyond how good it felt being connected with her. He whispered her name with a ragged breath, feeling her clamp around him and draw him further inside her.

Clint started out slow but quickly lost control of his rhythm, slamming into her hard and fast. The tension that had been building between them the past couple weeks had wound both agents so tight that it was impossible to stop or even slow down, at least not in this moment. One of Clint’s callused hands swept up her slippery front to fondle her full breasts. He tweaked her hardened nipples, adding to her pleasure making her arch and buck against him.

“Oh God yes… You feel so good…” Natasha panted desperately, the archer’s name falling from her lips over and over as she lost herself to the delicious sensations washing over her body. Her walls clenched around his throbbing length as she found her peak, she felt the hot bursts of him coming inside her and it fulfilled her on a level that was deeper than the physical whether she wanted it to or not.

Clint rolled his hips up into her until he was completely spent; leaning heavily over her in the wake of his climax, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. Natasha craned her head back to meet his lips in a tender kiss as he slipped out of her heat. It felt perfect to be with her like this, different than he’d ever felt with anyone and he wanted more. He’d always want more of her.

For a moment Natasha forgot herself and pressed her lips softly to Clint’s. It felt like coming home, trembling and panting from her pleasure in her partner’s arms, his warmth surrounding her as the water streamed over their bodies. The redhead had to force herself not stand there and keep kissing him out of simple tenderness, breaking their contact and dispelling the sweet moment by grabbing the shampoo so they could both do a little more thorough cleaning before getting out of the shower together.

When Natasha broke their kiss and offered him the bottle of soap the archer felt frustration well up inside him. It seemed she wasn’t budging an inch, still unwilling to give him the smallest opportunity to get closer to her, to be sweet to her like he wanted. The second things got outside her comfort zone she pushed him away, not even allowing them a simple loving kiss as they came down from their shared high.

Still the sandy blonde agent kept a small smile on his face as he took the bottle from her, not wanting to show her the affect her dismissal had on him. For now he’d appreciate the great sex for what it was, applying his nearly limitless patience as a sniper waiting for a chance for what they had now to become something more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter and it's unedited as neither of us have the time or energy to do any of that. I find I like our rough stuff better (heh heh). I hope you guys enjoy the conclusion.

The pair of agents worked another two weeks or so in Abidjan, fighting and doing all they could to move the refugees to cleared zones. Every few nights they would find comfort in each other, though Natasha was always quick to retreat afterwards. Still, with that outlet the tension eased a little between them at least, they were even cracking jokes again when they worked. 

Then an emergency message came through from Fury calling Natasha in on a vital solo mission in Russia that required skills only she had. A quinjet was coming for her in the morning, her assignment estimated to take about six weeks assuming everything went well. The spy stood in her room, staring at her packed duffle bag and repeating over and over to herself that she could not go to Clint tonight. She didn't trust herself knowing that they would be apart for almost two months to keep up her act of detachment. 

She cursed under her breath. This was exactly why Clint was so dangerous for her, exactly why she should never have let him in. There was no room in their line of work for this foolishness. She would ignore the pain in her chest, ignore the image of him in her mind looking at her like she was the most precious treasure in the world. Monsters like her didn't warrant such looks, her poison would surely destroy him in the end.

Clint and Natasha were still on their shared assignment in Abidjan, working hard to finish up what try could and save as many people in the meantime. The pairs escapades had become a little more frequent and still he never found it easier everytime he watched her leave. She'd always have some excuse as to why she shouldn't stay the night but deep down they both knew, the only problem... Was Natasha. She fought herself day in and day out, to keep from getting attached to him in any form.

Had it been anyone else other than her, the archer would have given in already, any man in his right mind would have or at least confronted her about it but instead he waited. Patiently for weeks. Hoping each day might bring her a step closer to finally saying it. He tried desperately to tell himself he was going to fight the urge to see her tonight but he'd got word that she might be leaving this mission soon for another. He didn't know the terms but this might be his last shot to see her, be with her, even if that only meant physically.

Clint sighed, rising up from the edge of his bed and pulling on his physical training standard issue black SHIELD sweats. He fiddled with his pocket, debating internally if he should check on her, he made a mental promise with himself that if he did go see her, he'd do nothing more than wish her good luck and remind her he'd still be here when she got back.

The marksman exited out his door, checking the hallways out of habit as he walked barefoot to Natasha's small room. He knocked lightly waiting for her response before pushing the door open enough for him to peer in. He forced a crooked smile over at her uncertain face, "Ditching me already I see? Don't tell me... You're bored?" he teased, seeing her uncertain expression as she glance back at her bag. Clint frowned and looked over her shoulder at her packed duffle, "Where are they sending you?" he asked her quietly, suddenly feeling his stomach clench and his chest ache as he thought about her having to go out alone. She'd worked alone before but things were different in a sense. He hadn't yet come to the realization that he cared about her more than he probably should.

 

Natasha felt her chest tighten at the soft knock at her door. Of course the universe was't going to give her a break, when had it ever? Clint knew she was leaving, and since she hadn't come to him, he had taken it upon himself to go to her. She gave him a little half-grin as he entered, looking back at her packed bag, her stomach churning with apprehension.

"This place is a lot of things, but boring isn't one of them... Fury's sending me to Moscow for a couple months. I certainly hope they remembered to pack me a winter coat." She responded, trying to keep her tone light but not coming close to succeeding. The redhead picked up a folded t-shirt she had sitting next to her bag, it was one of Clint's he had left on the floor in her room a few nights ago. She had secretly slept in it a few times just to torture herself but she refused to take it with her, even if he probably wouldn't have even noticed it missing.

"Here, you left this in here awhile ago." Natasha handed it to him, maintaining her poker face as he took it from her.

Clint nodded, giving a small chuckle at her mention of needing a coat. "That's for sure." he comment, looking to the floor and then back at Natasha with a smile. He didn't want her to leave but what could he do, beg Fury to let him follow her? Ask him to let her stay because he needed her around? She was needed elsewhere and it was likely much more important than he was.

Natasha reached over next to her bag and handed the archer one of his shirts he must have left behind in her room. He took it from her avoiding her gaze, "Oh... Uhh thanks. You could have kept it and I would never have known." He said, rocking back on his heels and standing there in awkward silence for a few moments. "Couple months huh?" he repeated slowly.

He balled his tshirt up in his hands, looking over at his partner nervously and unsure what to say to her. "Guess it'll be awhile before we work together again... I don't want any calls about you attacking other agents alright? Behave yourself." he told her, smiling as he teased her. Clint's face grew more serious and his eyes locked with Natasha's, having to try his hardest to fight his emotions. "Natasha... Please be careful." he spoke quietly, fidgeting with his shirt and resisting the urge to pull her towards him, kiss her and hold her there until they had to say good bye but he promised himself he wasn't going to do that...

Clint's heart pounded in his chest. This was his last chance to be with her for a long time. He stepped close to her, their eyes meeting again and he kissed her sweetly. Immediately when he pulled away he regretted it, hating himself for always giving in to her.

 

Natasha chuckled a little in her throat, "I always behave myself. Except when I don't." She winked at him. He grinned back at her then his face grew serious, and his next words should have made her recoil from the tenderness in them but instead it warmed her to her core knowing how concerned he was for her safety. She had never had someone in her life genuinely care about her. The only people that might give some sort of a damn about her safety were her employers that saw her as a commodity, an object they wanted in prime condition to perform according to their purposes.

She should have backed away, turned her head when he stepped into her space and kissed her softly with all the tenderness she wanted but didn't deserve. But instead she allowed it, and felt the loss of his warmth keenly when he pulled away from her. Unable to form words, she nodded at him when he wished her a safe trip and left her room, telling her to contact him when she arrived at her destination at the door. Natasha nodded, the words she wanted to say clotting in he throat.

He was out of her room for maybe three full breaths when Natasha finally looked up at her closed door, her fists clenching at her sides. Her heart was pounding, her breathing shallow and erratic. The spy cursed under her breath and slipped out to her partner's room, telling her idiotic heart that she was simply going to enjoy him once more since they wouldn't see each other for awhile. It wasn't because she wanted as much time as possible with him before she had to leave.

Natasha entered his room without knocking, if her sudden appearance startled him, the archer didn't show it. He was sitting on the end of his bed with his elbows braced on his knees, the t-shirt she had given him hanging loosely in one hand. He started to question her but she crossed the space between them in two strides and practically pounced onto his lap, kissing him hungrily to silence his inquiry.

 

Clint walked back to his room quietly, shaking his head at himself as he sat on the edge of his bed. He shouldn't have kissed her like that. He rested propped up on his elbows with his shirt loosely hanging in his fingertips when he heard his door open and shut quickly. "Nat what are you doing?" he questioned in a hushed tone.

Though he barely had time to look at her and she ignored his question entirely, answering it in a way he didn't expect. Natasha was on him in seconds, climbing in his lap and kissing him hungrily. She rocked her hips into his, making him hard for her quickly. His hands gripped her sides, immediately running down to tug off her shirt and kissing along her cleavage.

Natasha's hands swept up his chest, gripping his sandy hair and tugging lightly, earning little growls from him as she pulled him up enough to kiss and bite at his throat. He laid back on his bed, letting her fall on top him but he quickly rotated their bodies, forcing her beneath him. She pulled off his shirt and his reign didn't last long when she rubbed him through his bottoms and flipped their bodies once more when he was distracted, battling for dominance over one another.

Clint gave in as she scrapped her nails down his abdomen and reached down to work off his pants. He panted, running a hand over her thigh as she pulled off his bottoms when he lifted his hips for her. His own fingers hooked into the fabric of her pants and he leaned forward, "You have far too many clothes on, Romanov." he whispered against her skin, repeating the words she'd said to him the first time with a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he nipped at her neck.

 

Natasha kissed her partner fiercely, grinding her pelvis against his and moaning as she felt his arousal growing against her. He dragged her top off and set a fire in her skin as he tasted her cleavage with his tongue, making her impatient for more.

They fell back to his mattress in a tangle of limbs and clashing lips and teeth, Clint rolled atop her and she yanked his shirt off, her hands splaying and clawing over his back. Her hand slipped between their bodies to stroke his erection, getting wet at the primal growls rumbling in his chest at the contact. Natasha told herself she was going to savor this last time with him, but as usual his taste and scent and heat drove her desire to a fever pitch and she couldn't wait to feel more of him, all of him.

The redhead hooked his leg and flipped their bodies, letting her nails skid over his muscled chest and down to his pants, undoing them and easing off his lap so she could discard them and his briefs in one motion. She straddled him again and he craned up to bite at her throat, whispering the same words she'd said to him their first night together as his fingers hooked into her pants. "We'll address that issue in a moment." She grinned devilishly and backed out of his reach, kissing and biting her way down his abs until she was kneeling between his legs.

The redhead bit down hard on Clint's hipbone, laving her tongue over the mark to soothe it and purring at his rough response as she licked a broad stripe up his shaft from base to tip. Natasha watched her partner's face contort with pleasure as she swallowed him down, deep-throating him and biting her nails into his hard thighs. When he neared the brink and started to quiver against her tongue she pulled off of him, swirling her tongue around his tip and lapping up his precum with a satisfied smile. "Tell me what you want, Cupid..." She murmured, licking her lips and humming with pleasure at his taste.

Clint grumbled in his throat, chuckling lightly as Natasha pulled out of his reach. He quirked an eyebrow curiously as she climbed down his body, kiss and nipping at his abdomen. She but his hipbone and he growled at her once more, his hips rising up and he flinched at the pleasing pain.

The redhead looked at him as she licked up his shaft, making him arch into her involuntarily. She took him fully in her mouth as best as she could accommodate and he moaned from the pleasure as she bobbed up and down on his length, sucking him hard. She brought him closer to the edge, his hands fisting the sheet beneath him and his thighs tensed, quivering beneath her as she pulled off him.

Clint's breath was coming in quick broken gasps when he looked down at her as she spoke. "Please... I want... To be inside you, Tasha." he breathed, "Make me come." the marksman pleaded, his eyes full of desire and she smirked at him.

 

Natasha smirked playfully, her center aching with want at his fevered words. Anxious to fulfill his request she quickly removed her bottoms then climbed back on the bed. She let her full breast and the soft skin of her belly glide over his straining erection as she climbed up the archer's body, meeting his lips in a hungry kiss as she straddled him. The redhead moaned into his mouth as his shaft nudged at her entrance and pressed against her clit, but before she could settle down on him his hand was reaching between them and caressing her wet mound.

Natasha shuddered at the contact and let him dip his knobby fingers into her core, gasping as he drew her slickness up to swirl around her tingling clit. She guided his length into her body and he continued to rub her most sensitive spot as she impaled herself on him. Natasha swiveled her hips, moaning loudly; he was so hard from her earlier ministrations and felt so good she couldn't hold back her sounds of pleasure as he stretched and filled her.

She rode him slow and deep, savoring the feeling of him inside her until her pleasure got the better of her and she began bucking and rocking her hips erratically, her release unfurling deep in her belly. "Oh God Clint..." Natasha exclaimed, overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasm as it rolled through her. The marksman gripped her hips and took control from her, thrusting up into her madly and coming inside her as her walls clenched around him in ecstasy.

Clint smirked a little as Natasha crawled up his body, their lips meeting in a heated kiss. He hummed against her lips, his tip brushing against her entrance but he didn't let her join their bodies. He reached down, his fingers messaging her most sensitive spot and dipping deep into her slick core. He pulled his fingers up, using her slickness to help his fingers slide over her clit in circular motions as she finally slid down onto him.

They both moaned at the contact and Clint breathed slowly as she rode him. Her motions were slow to start but her eyes trained on him and her breathing erratic and hot against his face as she trust against him faster and faster, her body starting to shake above him as her orgasm washed over her. "Oh... Fuck, Tasha... Yes!" The archer cried out and took control, gripping her hips tightly with both hands and slamming up into her heat. He felt his own pleasure taking over, digging his fingertips into her sides and moaning as he released deep inside her core.

Clint let up on his hold on Natasha, panting and letting an airy laugh escape his lips. Their nights together had always been heated and good but never like that. Never to the point that they were both shaking and completely spent, desperately trying to regain their composure and catch their breath. He looked up at her and reached for her hand, locking his fingers with hers and pulling her to rest a top his chest. He sighed, closing his eyes and enjoying the short moment she allowed him to have her rest with him. "Stay with me tonight... Please, Natasha?"

The marksman looked at her saddened as she tried to move away from him, shaking her head and saying she had to get up early and she really needed to get some sleep. Making every excuse she could to leave. He kept his hold on her fingers, not allowing her to leave his bed, "Please?" he asked her again quietly.

 

Natasha trembled above him as they came down from their shared high, their faces flushed and their skin damp with sweat. Clint pulled her down atop him and she went slack against his body, allowing herself a tiny bit of bliss listening to his heartbeat thrumming through her body. He broke the silence after a moment and her heart flipped over at his words.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to push him away and thus her emotions, and she immediately sat up. The undisguised pain in his eyes cut her deep, but she shook her head. "My flight is coming in early, I should go get some sleep..." She tried to move off of him but he tightened his grip on her hand and hip. His voice was quiet when he asked her again, his eyes searching her face. Natasha bit her full lower lip, her stomach full of butterflies. She was torn between what her heart wanted and what her mind knew would be best for both of them.

"All right..." Natasha relented, giving in to what she wanted despite the cynical voice in her head berating her for giving in to her childish need for her partner. Not just her physical need for his body and how good it felt to be with him, but her desperate need for the connection she could feel between them that ran deeper than flesh and bone. 

The redhead let the marksman tug her back down against his chest and for the first time Natasha nuzzled into his warmth, pressing her brow into his neck and draping her arm and leg across his body. Clint wrapped his arm around her and lightly ran his fingertips up and down her back, making her sigh with contentment at the soothing contact. She relaxed completely against him, melting like wax under his gentle touch.

After awhile Clint hooked his finger under her chin and tipped her head up, smiling down at her and kissing her softly. Natasha basked in the warmth of the contact, craning her head and responding to his touch and returning his gentle kiss affectionately. Her hand rested on his neck, her thumb skimming back and forth over his chiseled jaw. It felt so good to have him simply hold her and kiss her like this, it made her heart feel like it was going to burst. She felt tears prick her eyes and she pushed them down, nipping at Clint's lip and deepening the kiss to save herself from breaking down completely in the archer's arms. He growled against her lips and gripped her harder, making her pulse quicken and her toes curl.

Clint grinned at Natasha's response, pulling her to rest against his bare chest. He was a little surprised that she relaxed enough to cuddle up into him, her body half draped over his frame. He wrapped his arm around her, his fingers lightly running up and down the bare skin of her back. He was perfectly happy with staying in bed like this together forever but he knew deep down it wouldn't happen not anytime soon, especially when she had to leave early the next morning.

The marksman brought his free hand over, hooking his finger under her chin and smiling as she looked up at him. He pressed his lips to Natasha's gently and smiled against her lips when she responded. His stomach churning as they kissed, no matter how many times they touched and kissed she still had a huge effect on him. Her thumb ran over the outline of his jaw and he growled against her lips as she nipped at him roughly, turning their contact into something more than just a tender loving kiss.

Clint cupped her cheek, leaning over her and rotating their bodies enough that he was pressing her beneath him. He kissed her passionately, their tongues sliding together intimately. He felt his emotions getting the better of him though and he broke their contact, taking a deep breath and ducking his head to look away from her. Natasha reached for him, her hand gently pulling his face back to look at her and she kissed him again and again, encouraging him silently. She bit at his neck and shoulders, that pain he'd always enjoyed and he moaned as her hands ran down his side and scratched up his back. The archer enjoyed the sensation and pulled her head up to kiss her fervently again, feeling himself growing hard for her once more.

Clint turned their bodies as they kissed more fervently, she loved feeling the weight of him pressing her into the thin mattress. He stole her breath as he ravished her mouth with his, and she unconsciously wrapped her legs around him so he could settle atop her. He suddenly broke away and turned his face from her, she knew their separation was going to be just as hard for him as it would be for her.

Still, she wasn't going to waste a second of their time remaining together. Natasha gently drew Clint's face back to meet hers, kissing him sweetly like before then letting her lips wander down his throat to bite and suck at his skin. The embers of her need were flaring up with him pressed on top of her and she ran her hands up and down his toned back, using her teeth and nails the way she knew drove him crazy.

Clint moaned roughly and captured her lips with his again, starting to rock his hips against hers. She could feel his arousal growing against her belly and she sighed wantonly as he bit a trail down her throat to her full breasts. He laced the fingers of one hand with hers by her head, using the other to roll her nipple between his fingers, teasing the rosy flesh to a rigid point and earning a desperate mewl from her. His mouth was busy with its twin and Natasha arched up into his ministrations.

"Please Clint, I need you..." She pleaded, trailing her free hand down his side to stroke his hard length and guide it to her wet center, encouraging him to take her by rocking her pelvis up to meet him. The archer thrust into her tight sheath and they both sighed with pleasure, he lifted his head up to meet her gaze as he started moving inside her and the redhead lost herself in the depth of his silver stare.

Clint moved his hips, teasing them both when he knew what they desperately wanted. He locked his fingers with Natasha's and leaned down kissing a searing trail down her neck and to her bare chest. His mouth busily working one peak while his free hand tweaked and played with the other.

He paused at his partners words, feeling her fingers brush over his muscular frame and down his side. She stroked his length, making him moan lightly as she guided him to her dripping core and he pushed into her heat slowly, filling her to the hilt. The archer rocked his hips, thrusting himself against her and raised his head to meet her gaze.

Clint felt more connected to her now than he had before, seeing her look back into his eyes. He gently squeezed her fingers still laced with his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, scratched and likely still bloodied from the job. He kept his silver gaze locked on her, focusing on her and only her and how good it felt to be this close to her.

The archer quickened his pace a little, feeling himself getting close; he leaned over and kissed Natasha gently, lovingly and lingered there for a moment. He pressed his forehead against hers, her name falling from his lips as he slipped over the edge once again, coming inside her and feeling her clamp around him as he rode out his own orgasm.

 

Clint increased his pace, hitting all the right places inside her and driving her towards the peak of her pleasure. Natasha arched and writhed under him, moaning against his lips when he kissed her tenderly. He pressed his brow to hers, her name falling from his lips like a prayer and it was too much for her to stand.

Natasha quivered and gasped as her pleasure crested, her most feminine muscles tightening around him as he came, clenching repeatedly and milking him dry. The archer slumped against her, panting heavily in the wake of his orgasm and she wrapped her arms around him, savoring the feel of him pressing her down into the bed.

Clint slipped out of her after a moment and kissed her softly on the temple, then the cheek, then lingered sweetly on her lips. He murmured to her softly about how perfect she was and it made a lump of emotion in her throat she couldn't swallow. He shifted onto his side and Natasha melted into his warmth, not trusting her voice so she simply kissed his chest.

After several blissful moments the archer's breathing evened out and his grip on her slackened, Natasha gingerly craned her head up to peer at his face, relaxed by sleep. She smiled and rested her head back on his chest, sighing softly. "The only thing perfect about me... Is you." She whispered, letting her eyes flutter shut. Natasha had thought she wouldn't be able to sleep cuddled up to her partner like she was, but it only took a few moments for her to drift off into the most peaceful rest she'd ever gotten.

Clint slipped out of Natasha, pulling himself up off her and kissing her temple and cheek. "You... Are perfect. In every single way possible." He murmured against her skin and moved to her lips, kissing her sweetly and keeping her there for a moment. She likely didn't believe what he had to say but he meant it, in his eyes his partner was the ideal woman and he loved everything about her even the broken parts he hoped someday he might be able to help put the pieces back together.

He rested on his side and smiled to himself as Natasha nuzzled into his warmth, kissing his chest lightly. The archer quickly relaxed with her in his arms, closing his eyes and letting sleep take over, falling asleep within a few moments. His eyes fluttered but didn't open when he felt movement beside him, ignoring it but then he could have sworn he heard Natasha's voice, telling him he was the only thing perfect about her was him. He felt her snuggle up against him more, her head resting in the crook of his neck and her hand on his bare chest.

Clint's brow furrowed slightly, unsure about her words but then he smiled, remembering their night and happy to see that she had kept to her word and stayed with him so far. He reached for her hand on his chest and laced his fingers with his own, careful not to wake her up. He sighed with contentment and settled himself again, falling asleep to the sound of Natasha's steady breathing, he didn't want the morning to come but he knew it would, for now he'd enjoy the company.

Natasha woke up to the unfamiliar but not uncomfortable sensation of a solid, warm body spooned up against her back. They must have shifted in their sleep, coming to rest naturally with her smaller frame nested perfectly in his larger one. Clint's arm was wrapped around her waist and she could feel his warm even breath in her curls, and her heart almost broke from the sheer bliss of it all. The spy reached over to the shelf by the bed and looked at her phone, her alarm was going to go off in a little under an hour. 

The redhead sighed, basking in his embrace and wishing time would stop so she could reside in this moment forever. But then she picked up on the distant sound of explosions outside and reminded herself that if there was one thing she could count on, it was that the world would go on as it would no matter what she wanted or how she felt.

Normally Natasha would use this opportunity to extract herself discreetly and leave, avoiding the farewell with her partner that made her insides ache much more than she cared to admit. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. No, it seemed she was a glutton for punishment because instead of trying to escape clean she shifted in his arms just enough so she could crane her head back to look at Clint's face, smiling softly at him as he blinked sleepily at her. 

 

Clint slept soundly with his partner in his arms, more soundly and relaxed than he had in who knew how long. He felt her stirring beside him and turning in his arm. He woke slowly, stretching himself a little as his eyes fluttered opened and he saw Natasha facing towards him, grinning at him and he sleepily rubbed his eye.

He smiled back at her, surprised but pleased that she had managed to restrain herself from leaving. The archers hand reached up and he brushed her bangs aside, "You stayed." He stated, cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. He knew he shouldn't, it'd only make things harder for them both but he didn't care not right now. He just wanted to enjoy the time they had, enjoy this moment together.

Clint grinned at her again as they broke away, running his hand lightly over her side. He pulled her in a little closer, "What time is it?" he asked quietly, hearing the sadness in his own voice. The reality settling in that she would have to leave and all of this would have to end. He knew Natasha was a fantastic agent, that's why she had been paired with him, they made a brilliant team but he would still worry about her everyday. He hoped that no matter what their relationship status was, she would check in and ease his mind, letting him know she was alive and safe.

Natasha returned his kiss gently, tucking away the blissful feeling of him holding her close in the morning deep in her mind to keep forever. No matter what happened, no matter how difficult or dark her life might become further down the road, she would at least have these few moments of perfection to remind her that there were points of light in the darkness.

"It's a quarter past six. My flight will get here at seven, wheels up at seven thirty." An explosion not too far from the safe house made the room shake a little. "Assuming it isn't shot down that is." She quipped, nuzzling into him a little closer. "Make sure you stay in one piece while I'm gone, Cupid." She murmured, her voice slightly uneven with withheld emotion. It figured that the first night she finally allowed herself a taste of what she so desperately wanted with this man was also the last night she got to spend with him for weeks.

The redhead sat up and stretched languidly, the sheet falling from her naked front but she was completely unconcerned with her nakedness in front of her partner. She turned to look down at him and quirked a delicate brow at him. "What are you looking at?" She asked playfully, rolling over to stretch herself out on top of his muscled body and dipping her head down to kiss him deeply. She purred like a cat when his hands slid up and down the smooth plane of her back under the sheet.

 

Clint turned his head towards the direction of the explosion, returning his gaze to her and chuckling at her comment. At least if they died here in his room, they'd die together. He'd much rather have that than get word from Fury that something went bad in Moscow and he'd lost not only his partner but his best friend.

He snuggled up against Natasha, sighing contetlu as she nuzzled into his warmth more. "Don't worry about me, Red. Take care of yourself." he murmured, not wanting to be the one to distract her from her work. Though he knew no matter what he said she'd worry about him too.

Natasha pulled away from him, sitting up and stretching, exposing her bare top half to him. Clint quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked at the sight, laughing when he was caught staring. She stretched out across his muscled frame, kissing him deeply. He growled lightly in his throat, his hands running down the soft skin of her back and gripping her rear, pressing her harder against him as they kissed fervently. "I'm gonna miss you..." he told her softly against her lips. He hugged her against his large frame, pulling back and smiling at her as he pecked her lips once more.

Natasha hummed as Clint's strong hands gripped her bottom and rocked her hips against his as they kissed, the delicious friction sending pleasant little jolts zinging through her body. His soft, sweet words made her tense in his arms, and she felt a lump forming in her throat again.

She knew it was stupid, but she blurted out before she could stop herself, "Why? What is there to miss about me? Why do you even care about me at all? I'm..." Natasha's voice cracked and she had to stop and take a breath, "I'm not the kind of person it's wise to get close to..." She averted her eyes, blinking back sudden traitorous tears and worrying her lower lip with her teeth, holding her breath to keep in her sobs. 

Confused and humiliated by her inability to control herself, Natasha tried to sit up and get off of him with a mind to flee, but Clint snatched her arm and tugged her back down against his chest, not letting her leave.

Clint looked at her with confusion written all over his face as she questioned him. He watched her and waited for her to finish, seeing tears stream down her cheeks and her struggling to push them down. He'd never seen her lose control like this, not in such a way that involved him before.

Natasha sat up and tried to move away from him but he gripped her arm, a little tighter than he'd meant to and pulled her against him again. They sat in silence for a few moments and he hugged her tightly against his chest, allowing for her to cry herself out if needed or to at least settle down a bit.

"Because you're different Natasha... You tell me like it is, you don't take my bullshit and you... You make me feel happy for once." he murmured, fighting back his own emotions and shaking his head at her, his chin quivering. "I hate that you don't see how strong you are. There's so much more to you..." the archer explained in a harsh but quiet tone.

He wished Natasha could see herself that way that he did, to see that she had been through such darkness and still managed to find the light again, to fight everyday on the field and be tough enough to take a bullet or two, and to work as hard at something as she does. The only thing he wished is that she would let down her walls enough to open up to people and let him in her life more.

"No one ever said I was a smart guy, Red." he chuckled softly. She might think it was a bad idea for him to get close to her but he didn't. The only thing making her say it was bad idea for him to be close to her was her own fear; she was afraid to care about him too... To get attached to him so easily. He wanted to tell her it was, because he'd gotten to see her in a different light, saw through her mask and knew that she wasn't really that monster that the Red Room had made her out to be. That wasn't the life she wanted and he could see it in her eyes when he'd been sent to take her down that day. Making the call to take her in instead was the best decision he had ever made thus far and now he had this amazing, beautiful, strong willed and deep down caring and loving woman as his partner... And he loved her.

Natasha pressed her face against Clint's chest as he spoke, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Kindness, acceptance, they weren't things she knew how to respond to, how to internalize without writing them off as lies and manipulations. She was starving for affection and never even realized it until she was given a crumb of it unasked for. She wanted more, but she wasn't even sure if she could handle it, having lived this long without it. 

The spy craned her head back up, managing to get her tears under control enough to chuckle at his last comment. "Oh no, you're smart, you'd just rather be out getting your hands dirty than sitting in a war room somewhere." She couldn't acknowledge what he'd said about her, about them... Not yet. It was too big, to intense for her to process, but just the fact that she didn't dismiss what he said out of hand was a step forward by itself. She hoped he could be patient with her while she adjusted to all these damn emotions. If anyone could it would be Clint.

Her blue eyes searched his face and she smiled, leaning down to kiss him, offering him the tenderness she couldn't put into words with physical contact. He responded to her, wrapping his strong arms around her again and she melted against his muscled frame. It was heaven lying skin to skin with her partner, and now it felt even more intimate, more meaningful after words he had spoken.

Natasha deepened the kiss and began rocking her hips against his, desperate to have him one last time before she had to leave. Clint nipped at her lip making her shiver with want; his callused hands splaying over her back and bracing her against his warmth as he turned their bodies dragging her beneath him.

Clint held Natasha against his frame, feeling her bury her face into his chest and shaking from her crying. In a way it was kind of nice for him to finally see her let herself go like this, it was a sign of progress for the redhead, finally not hiding her true emotions from him.

Natasha looked up at him and he grinned at her words, and she returned it sweetly. She looked over his face, her blue eyes locking on his and she crane her head down to kiss him affectionately. The archer knew it was best not to keep talking about it all and let her decide when she was ready to discuss things further if the time ever came.

Clint wrapped his arms snugly around Natasha, pulling her against his front and he felt her rocking her hips against his own, making his desire for her grow. He moaned a little in his throat and nipped at her bottom lip in response. He pulled her against him and slowly rolled their bodies until she was beneath him, leaning down and kissing her ravenously. One last time before she had to leave him. He rolled his hips into her as they kissed, moving to suck and bite at her throat and collarbone. His hand reached between their bodies as he settled between her legs, his knobby fingers brushing against her clit, making her buck up against his hand. He teased her gently, making her slick with want and him harder for her by simply hearing her broken breathing and fevered words against his ear.

The marksman continued rubbing her with his thumb as he thrust into her dripping core, making him sigh with pleasure. He began moving inside her, watching her face and giving her a soft adoring smile. Clint leaned down, kissing her deeply and passionately and growling in his throat as her hands ran up his back, gripping at his muscled shoulders. "Tasha... Ahh..." he breathed, feeling the pleasure rise in the pit of his stomach as he thrust harder into her. Her name fell from his lips again as he went over the edge, coming deep inside her core.

Natasha moaned low in her throat as Clint nipped and sucked at her neck, his hand slipping down to tantalize her clit and awaken the desire in her body like only he could. "Mmm your hands feel so good..." She gasped as he drove her pulse up and made her wet with want from his ministrations. She arched up involuntarily into his touch, desperate for more. "God Clint... Take me please..." She pleaded, meeting his gaze as he entered her.

His warm smile and passionate kiss made her stomach flutter even as he drove her body to the brink of oblivion. His dexterous hand worked her most sensitive spot as he drove into her, his pace increasing and becoming more erratic as his own pleasure overwhelmed him. His rough voice whispering her name over and over as they moved together unraveled her. She clung to him desperately as she came, her nails biting into his back and her legs tensing around his waist. 

Natasha felt Clint's muscles tighten up under her hands as he exploded inside her, her whole body trembling as they floated down from their shared high. The archer eased out of her and immediately gathered her up in his arms as he rolled onto his side, not giving her a chance to even think about getting up. The redhead laughed lightly despite herself, being with him felt so good and so right and it was all she could do not to start tearing up again.

"You know in order for me to leave I have to get dressed." She chided him even as she snuggled closer into his warmth. Natasha had never felt this way before, a sense of belonging, a need to hold on to something, or in this case someone. All she knew for certain was that she would have traded anything for just a few more moments in Clint's arms.

 

Clint slipped out of Natasha's center and pulled her in his arms, rolling onto his side. He grinned as she chuckled at him, knowing that he was taking advantage of every last second he could get with her. She nuzzled into him despite her words and he knew she didn't feel much like leaving him either.

The archer kissed the top of her head, then her temple and grinned against her skin. He hooked his finger under her chin, pulling her head up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss. He kissed her once then once more, savoring her taste and the feel of her plump lips against his. "Then don't get dressed. We can just lock the door and lay like this forever. Sound good?" he murmured jokingly between kisses, feeling her smile against his lips. He knew that no matter what she would have to leave for her mission.

Clint broke apart from her reluctantly and sighed as he held her close, looking into her bright blue eyes. "Remember the rules, no beating up nurses or other agents." he chuckled, searching her eyes and getting serious again, "Can you do me a favor?... Check in on occasion so I know I still have a partner. Even if that means having a chain of agents tell me in code or sending a random text that makes no sense... Just something... So I know." he asked her quietly, even if they never amounted to anything more than coworkers, Clint needed that confirmation that she was alive and unharmed. He cared about Natasha regardless.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the archer's request, her knee-jerk reaction was still suspicion and she automatically began cataloging possible ulterior motives he might have for wanting to keep tabs on her. The spy mentally shook herself. This was Clint. He was her partner, her best and only friend, and he was... Whatever else it was they were to each other that she still couldn't define. She could trust him. 

She grinned at her partner, leaning in to kiss his lips again. "I'll do my best to let you know I'm alive without blowing my cover." She responded, tugging his lower lip with her teeth and winning a little growl from his throat before she forced herself to sit up and stretch. The redhead swung her legs off the bed and the archer sat up, wrapping his arm around her middle and kissing and biting at her pale shoulder and up her neck. She hummed and turned her head back to kiss him again, shoving back at his chest playfully. "You're very distracting, Barton." She admonished him, nudging his nose with hers before standing up and starting to dress. She felt the loss of contact with him keenly but still she made herself get ready to leave.

Clint caught her tensing a little at his words, likely still unable to believe that he cared for her as much as he did. Clearly Natasha was trying her best to push those thoughts away and trust him, they'd been partners awhile now. He smiled against her lips as she kissed him and growled lightly as she tugged at his lip.

The archer sat at when she did and quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand caressing her soft skin beneath his finger tips. He began biting and kissing at her shoulder, moving up to her neck. The redhead turned and kissed him deeply, before laying a hand on his chest and pushing him away from her playfully.

Clint moved back but only slightly, laughing at her words, smiling as she nudged his nose with hers. "Part of the job, Red." he teased, watching her adoringly as she stood from his small bed, his fingertips brushing against the skin of her back. He pulled himself up off the mattress, riffling through his small dresser and pulling on a pair of briefs and his uniform pants, preparing himself for heading out to perimeter the area once Natasha left. Despite how much progress they had made, he was still needed on the field.

The marksman stepped closer to Natasha as she finished dressing, taking her in his strong arms. He kissed her lightly, "Be careful, Natasha." he told her for likely the tenth time as they said their goodbyes. He forced himself to smile at her and fought back the fear he felt having to let her leave.

Natasha smiled up at her partner, lingering in the circle of his arms even though she knew she only had a few minutes to get to the jet that was waiting on the airstrip. "You as well. Watch yourself out there, keep the whelps out of trouble." She winked at him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him once more. The spy was confident in her own skills and in her partner's, but she still was filled with an unfamiliar sense of apprehension as she left from their private farewell in his room.

The spy checked out with the other squad leaders, offering some last minute advice for the recon team then headed out to the jeep that would take her to her jet. She saw her partner emerge and start talking with the other leaders, devising their strategy for the day's combat and relocation efforts. Her full pout tugged up and she got in the car, not looking back as it drove away. It felt bittersweet but surprisingly good knowing there was someone in the world that was going to miss her while she was apart from them.

Clint nodded his head in response and returned her feather light kiss, letting his hand skid down her arm and grip her fingers for a quick second. He watched her leave his room and finished dressing himself quickly before exiting.

He met with a few squadron leaders, going over their plans and taking Natasha's advice he'd just missed, into account. He turned his head and spotted the redhead stepping into the SHIELD jeep that would take her the short distance to the jet. They didn't make eye contact but the archer half smiled at her as she drove away. Wherever he was when she returned he'd be waiting for her to come back to him. He quickly turned his attention back to the map of the marked safe locations and went over their route they'd take to reach an over run building. For now the blonde agent would focus on his own missions as much as he could until he saw her again.

Natasha spent the first three weeks of her mission slowly and carefully working her way into the inner circle of the Russian Deputy Minister of Defense who's jurisdiction included several 'experimental defensive technologies' that weren't exactly on the books but weren't exactly not being funded by Russia's military either. She was flawless, as always, but it was a little strange to be back in Mother Russia again. Her own voice sounded strange to her as she spoke in her native tongue after so many months of only speaking it occasionally in passing or reading through counter-intelligence reports for Fury.

When she could, she checked in with her partner, though it wasn't as often as she would have liked. She had taken to buying generic disposable phones and using them only once per device to send one or two word messages to him, wait for a response, then discarding them. Still, it was better than nothing, and they had never needed many words between them anyway.

Clint was still working in Abidjan, it was satisfying to her to catch snippets of world news and hear media reports that many more refugees were being relocated to safe areas than were previously expected. 

After about a month the redhead attended an executive foreign affairs ball where many ministers were in attendance, sitting at a table with her target she was shadowing and being as charming as she had ever been. The men around her saw her as nothing more than another object, just another exquisite piece of art they were accustomed to having surround them; only she just happened to graciously accept the drinks they gave her and laugh coquettishly at their bad jokes. She absorbed everything they said, but she was far more interested in what was not being said about the defense projects being worked on under the table.

The redhead looked up from her table and caught the eye of a stunning brunette across the room. She was dressed in a devastatingly gorgeous plum silk gown and dripping with diamonds. They appraised each other and Natasha almost dismissed her as a catty politician's plaything sizing her up against the high profile men she had eating out of the palm of her hand. But... There was something off about her. Something almost too perfect about her that no one else would ever perceive, but the spy recognized immediately because she was cut from the same cloth.

Her eyes narrowed and she pretended to give her attention back to the man who thought he was flirting with her famously, but really he was making an ass of himself just using a fancier vocabulary to do it. But really she was tracking every move the mysterious woman made, and she knew the brunette was doing the same to her. 

Clint was hard at work in Abidjan, nearing what many exhausted SHIELD agents hoped to be the end of a long worked mission. He'd managed to help clear out a lot of refugees and the action was finally beginning to die down after... Heck he had lost track a long time ago how many weeks or was it months, that he had been there.

On occasion he would get a text or two from his partner and every single one, no matter how short or plain it was, made him smile. He found that he worked harder on days he got to hear from her, for whatever reason she was his motivation. He didn't know much about the current mission that Natasha was on but it didn't matter all that much as long as he kept getting those few messages letting him know she was alive and well.

A few long weeks later, Clint had been sent back home, working a few minor missions and taking what he considered to be a break compared to the long job in Abidjan. They had worked to the best of their abilities to rid the area of any enemies, though they lost a few of their own men, many civilian lives were saved and any agent would gladly give their last breath if it meant helping someone else.

The government had taken control over cleaning up the area, a decent number of agents stayed behind to protect the people and contribute to rebuilding their damaged villages. If Clint had the option, he'd have gladly stayed behind to assist but he felt more at home where the action was, liking it better when he was out on the field, bow in hand and ready to take the shot. He was needed elsewhere and that was fine with him.

As the evening dragged on Natasha was completely certain that the woman in the purple dress had a particular interest in her and that she was much more than she appeared to be. The women courted each other's glances and took each other's measure without ever getting within 20 feet of the other. They were like two tigers circling, lovely and deadly and completely unreadable except to the other.

She was patient enough to wait the woman out, but her pawns at the table hadn't been discussing anything pertinent to her work for the past hour and she was tired of fielding their increasingly less subtle advances as they drank more of their expensive scotch. The redhead gracefully excused herself and went upstairs to the curtained balcony of the reception hall, crossing her milk fair arms over her chest and waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. "I never dreamed I would have the honor of meeting you." The woman joined her in the private space moments later, her deep voice behind her smooth as the silk gown she wore. 

Natasha smirked, not looking back at her new companion. "It seems you know me, but I'm quite sure we haven't met... I don't forget faces." She responded quietly.

"Sadly we haven't, I know you by reputation only Natalia." The woman replied and the spy bristled. For her to be recognized on sight for who she really was, in this setting by a woman like her...

"So the Room is still operating." She didn't phrase it as a question since she already knew the answer.

"As a shadow of it's former self, but yes. You have been dearly missed, Elder Sister." The brunette smiled a toothy grin when Natasha finally turned to face her, "I don't suppose you'll consider coming back to us willingly." She proposed, the lines in her posture changing as she anticipated the redhead's likely refusal.

"Freelancing isn't always reliable... I will hear you out, but not here." The spy retorted, and she smirked internally at the barest hint of shock that colored the brunette's eyes before she masked it. Natasha had no intention of becoming the Red Room's puppet again, but her mission was too important and she couldn't risk her cover being compromised. The brunette narrowed her eyes at the former Russian assassin and nodded curtly, and the women slipped their masks back on, walking together back down to the reception area of the hall to retrieve their fur coats and muffs from the doormen. 

Natasha knew she was walking along the edge of a knife, but she had little choice. She would go with the brunette to a safer location and quietly subdue her, if she could avoid killing her the woman might prove to be a wealth of information for SHIELD. But she certainly wouldn't hesitate to kill her adversary if necessary. 

Clint had been sent on a mission in Seattle, who'd have thought... It was a strange feeling to be back in the states and kind of thrilling in a way to be taking down bad guys in his own country. It was comforting. He was learning that he hated the rain when he had to spend the time outside, getting soaked in his heavy uniform wasn't his idea of a good time. Though at the same time was discovering he liked the soothing sound of the drops against the window of his hotel room, it helped him sleep at night along with the rush of the city around him.

The mission he'd been sent on would be short and simple, they'd had all they needed on Yakavetta who was running a human trafficking program, kidnapping young women, drugging them and well... Clint didn't even like thinking about it and he was honestly looking forward to putting an arrow through that fat asses skull.

He checked his phone for the fourth time in the past hour as he stood at the edge of a tall warehouse at the end of the city. He'd hoped to hear from Natasha today but he had yet to get a message, last he knew she was working on intel, the usual and was headed to a party or something. He should have expected she would be busy too so he shoved his phone in one of the many pockets of his flak vest and focused his attention back on trying to find an opening in the heavily protected building. And when he said heavily he didn't mean in artillery, these men were huge in stature.

Clint turned at the sudden sound of footsteps behind him, facing down the barrel of a gun. Apparently these guys were a little smarter than he'd been told. He quickly lifted his hands, as though he was going to cooperate, setting his bow slowly on the ground beside him. The young guard was shaking and the archer stood quickly, snapping his arm and making the man howl in pain; Clint forced him to drop his weapon and he removed what was left of the clip, sighing as he tossed the now emptied gun aside. This kid was maybe early to mid twenties and te marksman hated seeing that these guys were being trained younger and younger.

The guard stared at him, gripping his broken arm and watching the archer wideeyed as he stepped closer to him. Clint hooked his arm around the other mans neck, "Sorry kid..." he murmured, turning his wrists abruptly and snapping the you gets neck. He was likely raised in this environment and despite knowing Clint had to kill him, he still felt sorry that the kid might not have seen any other life than this one.

The archer shook his head as the boys body fell to the roof and he bent over, picking up his bow and leaping across to the warehouse he needed to be present in. As soon as his feet hit the ground the guard he'd spotted watching the door to the roof, faced him, "Oops this is awkward... think I have the wrong roof..." he began as he silently pulled an arrow from his quiver and shot the man at the door. He smirked to himself as he stepped over the body and worked his way down the steps, clearing out a few levels before reaching his destination, Yakavetta's office.

Natasha and her new companion strode out of the grand reception hall together, catching every eye and turning every head. Spies were supposed to be invisible and leave no trace, but the truly skilled ones hid the most skillfully in full view. The women were perfectly civil, sharing a cab back to a palatial hotel and entering the low lit bar attached to it. There were very few patrons there at this hour, either drinking and smoking alone or speaking in low whispers in the darkest corners of the room.

The women slid into a booth and ordered identical vodka martinis, mockingly tipping their glasses in salute before drinking. Natasha felt like she was sitting across from her past self from before Clint had brought her in, even before she had cut her ties from the Red Room and floated adrift on a sea of darkness and blood. "So, what is your offer, and why would you extend it to me when its no secret that Ivan wants my head on a platter?" The redhead asked over the rim of her glass.

"Ivan is dead. Most of the old blood is. Karlov is running the Ghost Room now." The brunette answered curtly.

"Ghost Room?" Natasha raised her brow, her muscles tensing when the woman's hand hovered over the fine silver cutlery on the table between them before moving back to her drink.

"Yes. We may be a shadow of the Red Room's former glory, but we are not to be trifled with. You are playing with me Elder Sister, we know you've defected to the United States and allowed yourself to be leashed by that one-eyed dog Fury. Upsetting as this news was, it does present us with a unique opportunity, which is why you aren't dead yet." The brunette grinned, swirling the fine alcohol in her glass.

Natasha smiled dangerously. "You think it would be that easy, do you?" She replied in a low voice that could curdle the blood of the bravest men with fear. The woman didn't bat an eye.

"Of course I do. You've grown soft Elder Sister, become complacent. I live up to the namesake I inherited from you... No one escapes from my web." The brunette winked and between one heartbeat and the next Natasha realized to what lengths the Room was willing to go to take her. Of course the redhead knew this 'New Black Widow' had led her here to trap her, but out of all possible scenarios she never would have anticipated this. Natasha knew she was royally fucked the instant her companion's eyes rolled back in her head and she fell forward on the table, out cold. 

The redhead's vision swam and her senses shut down simultaneously. The brunette had drugged the vodka bottle in advance, willing to take it herself to put on a convincing show for the former Russian spy. Natasha was out before her head hit the table, a little grin on her face at the audacity of it. It seemed this version of the Red Room, unlike the one she came from, saw the value in working with a team. Inside a minute several men in dark coats came and discreetly collected the women, pairs of them carting off their limp bodies while one kept a gun trained on the bartender until they were away.

Clint had silently made his way down to the door at the very end of the hallway. It wasn't at all complicated to figure out which was Yakavettas office. It was the only one being guarded by two men, their hands clasped behind their backs, standing at attention and scanning the hallways at either end of them. Well they had been before Clint arrived.

He casually walked down the dimly lit hall, multiple doors on either side of him, likely containing new recruits he thought. The guards , a dark haired man and a tall thick bald man, moved swiftly down the hall to meet Clint. They looked him over, one pulling his gun and aiming at the sandy blonde before him. "Scuse me fellas... Just need a word with your boss." Clint stated simply with a smile spread across his face.

"Boss isn't expecting anyone. He doesn't see people with out an appointment." the bald guard explained, stepping in front of the archer before he could get any closer to the door.

The marksman smirked, "Special circumstances. I don't need an appointment. You see, my boss has sent me to well tear yours to shreds." he stated smugly and watching as the guards tried not to make a scene.

"Puny man like you?" The bigger bald headed guard scoffed in his throat. "Unlikely."

"Puny? Well that's uncalled for." Clint kicked the dark haired guard in the ribs, the one who'd kept his gun drawn on him. The blow knocked him backwards and the archer barely managed to duck out of his immediate line of fire as he fell. He pulled his bow from his back and bolted to the side, shooting the dark haired man in the chest.

The marksman turned his attention to the bald man who looked flustered and shock by the mans swiftness. He drew his glock from his holster around his shoulders but Clint was too quick, shooting an arrow through the heel of the mans palm, making him cry out in pain and drop his weapon. He watched the man fall to the floor with a loud thud and the archer moved closer to him, "Got these fun little tips for my arrows. Some of them explode. Others contain a poison in the tip... Like that one there." the agent pointed excitedly to the broken arrow that had gone through the guards hand.

The bald man grunted in response, desperately trying to form words as his eyes started to flutter closed. Clint's expression was ruthless and he was having a little fun with his new toys. The guard would die in a few short seconds but it wouldn't be as painful as if he'd shot him in the throat or something. The poison would numb his body and take him quietly. Clint turned his head quickly at the sound of a door slamming to his left, hearing foot steps and the sound of men chatting as they jogged in his direction.

The archer had to move and fast, he shot an explosive tipped arrow at the handle of the door as he sprinted silently to the door of Yakavetta's office. The door popped open and he manuevared inside where the short greyed out boss was, the leader of this entire operation. To his surprise Yakavetta was smiling, sitting quietly at his desk and peering at the archer over his glasses. "I suppose you're here to kill me? Though you're not part of the police are you? You work alone." Yakavetta questioned.

Clint quirked a brow at him, "I'm certainly not here for high tea or to chit chat. Not in this outfit anyways." he replied. "If you don't mind I'd like to get this done and get home... I forgot to water my plants." he quipped, staring the other man down and watching as he chuckled at the archer.

Natasha slowly climbed out of the fog of unconsciousness, her head felt like it was going to explode and there was a dull ache running down her spine. She soon realized her back hurt because she was slumped awkwardly against a concrete wall with her arms shackled above her head, her arms were numb and she hardly felt it when she flexed her hands experimentally. The redhead blinked to clear her blurred vision and peered around, she was alone in a small poorly lit room that had a medical style bed with straps on it, metal shelves with all manner of torture implements on them, and a rusty drain in the center of the floor. 

Home sweet home. The spy thought, a bitter grin adorning her face as she struggled into a standing position. The length of her chains were just short enough so if she sat her arms were suspended uncomfortably above her, but if she stood her back had to stay bent at a straining angle. She was freezing cold and dizzy from the drugged vodka, and to top it all off her three-thousand dollar black silk gown was torn and filthy. Lovely. Just lovely.

The redhead eased herself back down on the concrete floor, her heart going cold as reality set in. Natasha was in the hands of the 'Ghost Room' and since she wasn't already dead that could only mean they planned to do what Natasha considered infinitely worse than killing her. They were going to turn her back into their puppet, and they certainly wouldn't let her break free of their hold a second time. Suddenly her partner's face flashed in her mind, and it was like a kick in the stomach. She was never going to see him again... And if somehow their paths did cross, it would only end in one or both of their deaths. Natasha's blue eyes flitted to the metal shelving, and she wondered if she could manage to reach something with her foot to either free herself or if not that she could at least kill herself to keep that nightmare from becoming reality. 

Yakavetta stood from his obsessively neat desk, his eyes appraising the archer before him. "If you're going to kill me, at least show me a little respect and treat me like a human. What's your name kid?"

Clint laughed despite himself, "Human? Respect? You mean like you do for those young ladies out there? Is it human to sell a woman's body? Force them to do whatever you so please and make them addicted to drugs in the process?" he hollered at the man, even though he knew he really should just get his job done, he was oddly interested in Yakavettas thought process.

"Now, now... Mr...?" the plump older man waited, gesturing to Clint and wanting to keep him distracted.

"Davis. The names Davis." Clint snapped, his fists clenching and he turned at the sound of people murmuring outside the office door. "Replacements?" he asked simply.

Yakavetta shook his head, "Are you worried Mr. Davis? You've already gotten passed so many of my men haven't you? I've but a few left and they're needed elsewhere." he gave the other a wicked smile.

Clint really hated being this close to someone, he worked from a distance but when Natasha wasn't there he had to do it himself. Normally she'd work her charm, seduce the man and put him in a thigh hold, making him practically beg for death. He wasnt sure that process would work quite as well for him... Seducing the rich guy. "Worried? No. Bored is a much better word. Its like I said I have shit to do. I don't have time for this but you should know..." Clint raised his bow and before Yakavetta could do anything, fired twice, pinning his sleeves to the wall behind him.

Yakavetta yelped involuntarily and the archer smiled, "... I'm going to kill the last few men of yours, personally make sure you suffer until you die, escort each of these young women home to get the help they need, and burn all of your filthy fucking money." he told him, reaching over his shoulder and pulling back another arrow. He fired at the mans large gut, making him groan in pain but still he laughed through the blood dripping from his mouth.

"What's it to you? Do I have your sister? Your wife? Daughter?" Yakavetta laughed, spitting blood at the marksmans face.

The agent whipped his head to the side, wiping the blood sprayed across his cheek and jaw with the back of his hand. He shook his head, "No. I just hate seeing anyone mistreat a lady!" Clint fired a final arrow, in the mans eye socket, watching him pinned up against the wall as he took his last painful breath.

Clint managed to work his way out of the warehouse, keeping true to his word and clearing out the last of these bastard men. He called for back up a d a group of SHIELD agents came to help gather the decent number of women being held within the building. It sickened him to see what these men had done, some girls maybe just entering high school and incoherent, a few unresponsive.

One young redhead lady, maybe in her late teens had been well off, having just been pulled into this shit not but a few days ago, she'd yet to be given anything but she still looked sickly from the conditions. Clint was the one to remove her from the building and she clung to him the entire time, at first not wanting to go with the medical team to get checked, looking at her rescuer for assistance. He smiled at her at reassured her she would be safe from now on; she hugged him and thanked him again for pulling her out of such darkness and instantly the archers heart clenched, thinking of Natasha. He still hadn't heard from her.

They finished their work, clearing out the area and Clint stayed the night in Seattle one final night. He stood on the balcony of his hotel room, taking a deep breath and enjoying the clean scent of the air around him. He sighed, missing Natasha greatly and wanting desperately to see her again.

No one came for Natasha for two days. She knew what they were doing, wearing her down physically and mentally so she'd be less able to fight off the effects of their mind-altering serum. She had tried everything to get to the shelving and the implements on them, her wrists were raw and bleeding from how much she had tried to force her hands free. It was no good. Her captors knew her and how she operated, since they had been the ones that had crafted her in the first place. They had removed everything from her person she might have used, hair pins, her shoes that had hidden lock picks and shivs in them, every concealed weapon and even her stockings and underwear lest she try to strangle herself with them.

She had missed three check-ins with her handler Wilson now, and she honestly wasn't sure if she had earned enough credit with SHIELD for them to mount some kind of rescue effort. It was just as likely, no probably more likely, that any effort they were making to find her now was to kill her. Fury had made it quite clear to her the day Clint brought her in that there would be no second chance for her if she betrayed them. Not that it mattered either way, since she wasn't going to be herself for very much longer and then she would be back at the top of the SHIELD hit list, fully deserving her place on it.

Phil paced back and forth in his office, his mind buzzing and his neck and back muscles tense with worry. Finally he made himself stop and take a deep breath, then he pulled out his phone and dialed Barton's number. The archer had completed his mission in Seattle ahead of schedule and been sent to help train some new recruits at their extreme conditions training facility in the Canadian Rockies.

When the agent answered Phil felt his heart sink a little further. Sometimes he hated his job. Not often, but when he did hereally hated it. There wasn't any point in beating around the bush, and he had too much respect for the archer to sugar-coat the situation. "Barton, I have some bad news. It's about agent Romanov... She's been dark for at least 48 hours, possibly longer. There have been six political assassinations over the last three days in Moscow, and we just got the reports in that confirm they're all linked to one killer. A young female operating undercover that approximately matches Natasha's description, and is definitely using her techniques. The Black Widow is back, and Fury wants her taken out." Coulson leaned heavily on his desk, hating this. He had really believed Natasha had decided to change, she really was a truly masterful manipulator. Even after seeing the reports himself he was struggling to believe it.

"Fury was going to send out a strike team to track and terminate her, but... I convinced him to let you go. He only allowed it because he trusts you. But you are not to have any contact with her, just a clean hit from a distance. Your instincts are never wrong, and for her to have fooled even you... This woman is dangerous, too dangerous to be taken in to custody, Fury was very clear about that. I'm sorry, Barton... I really am. But I knew you would want to be the one to do it. We have her last known location and the jet to take you to Russia should be arriving at the facility within the hour, so... Get ready." The handler pinched the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowing with frustration and remorse. They had trusted Natasha, and Phil knew that Clint and the redhead had become friends through working together. Still, the archer would do what needed to be done, he was sure of that.

Clint was in the Canadian Rockies spending the next few days helping to train new agents at a SHIELD facility. He was working close with a few trainees, teaching them hand to hand combat skills; he chuckled as one male trainee, Marcos was getting his ass beat with ease by one of Clint's better female students, Daniels. "Marcos, watch your left side and I know it's hard but you gonna relax a little. Daniels, good work just~" he stopped, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket.

The archer furrowed how brow when he realized it was Coulson, "Hold on guy... Uhh keep it up guys." he grinned approvingly at his soon to be fellow agents. "I'll be right back." he said to the other agent helping him train the others. He stepped away and answered the call, "Coulson...? Sending me home already?" he questioned but was cut off by Phil's urgent tone. Clint walked further away from the small group of trainees, listening intently to what his handler had to say.

He shook his head in disbelief, Natasha had been doing so well and she showed no signs that she was still in her old habits. He guessed the saying might be true, old habits really did die hard, or maybe she had never really given them up to begin with... Clint willed himself not to break down from the news, if it was true she had played him with ease, making him think she needed him, wanted him maybe even loved him... "No... Not Nat. She-she changed Coulson. It can't be her there's gotta be a mistake." he didn't want to believe it, shaking his head and wiping a hand over his face, gripping his jaw.

Clint fought back tears, he'd loved Natasha whatever they supposedly were and it pained him to think she had either deceived him or lost her way. He patiently waited for Phil to finish telling him what was going on, explaining that he convinced Fury to let him take the case and bring her down, like he failed to do the first time. He'd been so wrong, he was rarely ever wrong when it came to reading people. The marksman nodded his head slowly and took in a sharp breath, "I'll do my best you know I will... This ones gonna be hard but... I can handle it. No contact." he stated, no contact? How could he do that? What if it was a mistake and he killed her...

His chest ached but he did all he could to keep his composure, "Ill be ready to head out when my ride gets here. Thanks Coulson." he hung up his phone, his chin quivering as he shoved the device back in his pocket. A single tear slipped down his cheek which he immediately wiped away, forcing his mind to become more focused as his face grew more intense and he went directly into work mode. He wasn't sure how to feel or who to believe anymore, he'd have to find Natasha and see for himself.

Clint was ready, well as ready as he could be when the jet arrived for him. He loaded his duffle, taking the only sidekick he could ever trust, his bow along with a few glocks and pistols. He immediately put on the rest of his uniform, transforming himself into Hawkeye before strapping into his seat. He sat with his elbows propped on his knees, his face deadly serious as he stared off into space, his mind buzzing with a thousand different thoughts.

If what Fury and Coulson said was true and Natasha really had gone dark he wanted to see for himself, and he would be alright being the one to take her down. After all he was the one who brought her in, allowing her to see SHIELDs work and training programs, she knew too much and likely the information would spread within her little community... Still Clint hoped it wasn't true.

Coulson had a file prepared a file for the archer that detailed the information that had been 'obtained' from a contact with known connections to someone near the top of the old Red Room, he had let slip that there were rumors that several splinter groups had spawned from the broken pieces of the original organization, some government funded and some not. The Black Widow had been operating more openly Moscow very recently, but it was possible she had been feeding them information all this time.

The file had four locations where Clint might be able to find leads on the Widow's whereabouts, Coulson knew SHIELD had no better tracker than Barton, he perceived tiny details others missed and had laser like focus when it came to hunting down his targets. He also knew Natasha Romanov better than anyone, or at least the side of her she had shown him anyway. He knew how she operated, her patterns and habits, if anyone could find her, it would be him.

Natasha was given food and water on the third day, she drank the water but refused to eat anything. On the fifth day of her captivity she finally received a visitor of importance. Her new friend, who she discovered was called Lorena and was flaunting herself as the 'New Black Widow.' The brunette had a metal tray with a syringe on it, and Natasha knew exactly what it was for.

"Soon you will be one of us again Elder Sister. I'm very sorry but the process of reeducating you will be long... And quite painful." Lorena snickered at her prisoner as she lifted the syringe and held it up to the light.

"Somehow I find myself doubting if you're sorry." Natasha quipped, shrinking back involuntarily when she stepped closer, acting afraid and drawing her prey in. If she could just get Lorena to come close enough...

"You really think I'll fall for that?" The brunette scoffed, extracting a taser disc from her belt and throwing it at Natasha, shocking her and making her body jolt and lock up, incapacitating her temporarily so she could move in and stick the needle in her arm. Pushing the plunger all the way down, Lorena leaned in close and whispered in the redhead's ear, "You're right Elder Sister... I'm not sorry at all..." She extracted the needle from Natasha's pale arm and sauntered off, leaving the spy to endure the agonizing process of having her mind shaken like a snow globe and reassembled into something more agreeable to their cause. 

It would likely take two or three injections to fully convert her, but this first one would completely break her down and make her easy to bend to their will.

Clint went over the file that Coulson had sent over for him, reading it again and again, it still didn't quite make sense; spending the multiple hours he had in the jet ride over to contemplate his plan of action. He wondered in the back of his mind if maybe she knew he'd be coming or at least hoped he would so she could kill him. As if he wasn't dead enough inside already... He couldn't fathom that someone, even Natasha Romanov could put on such a show, it was near impossible to fake the feelings she had in a sense expressed having towards the archer.

It didn't take a whole lot for him to make a guess at which location she would be located. He was familiar with The Widow and the Red Room scum she worked with, he knew they would choose a discreet location that was somewhat off the map so that the screams of their victims couldnt be heard but not so far out there by itself that it was suspicious. They would choose a building likely that looked like a warehouse or apartment of sorts, someplace that it would go unnoticed having people in and out so frequently throughout many different hours of the day.

The place the agent had chosen felt familiar in a sense when he arrived, walking the perimeter and keeping tucked away in the shadows. He couldnt help but feel like he had been there before, though he hadn't; it was nearly the spitting image of where he'd originally discovered his little redheaded partner not long ago. He took a deep breath, leaning himself back against the wall of the adjacent building and trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn't tell if he felt more hurt or angered by the entire situation; he hated himself for allowing her to get so close to him.

Natasha twitched on the cold concrete floor for a moment, her arms wrenched awkwardly in the cuffs above her head with all her weight straining her bloodied wrists. Finally the shock from the taser wore off and she was able to drag herself into a slumped sitting position. Lorena had left, likely to observe her on the security camera from a distance while the serum took effect. 

Natasha felt the burning, invasive pain of the liquid that had been injected in her arm, her blue eyes wild and her breathing broken and shallow. This was it, it was really over. She had never been so naive as to think she would ever find redemption for all that she had done, but she had been committed to spending the rest of her life trying anyway. All the work she had done, the precious few bonds of trust she had forged with Clint and Coulson and even Fury to an extent... They had all been severed in an instant.

Clint... Natasha thought of her partner, the painfully sweet memory of their last night together suddenly filling her mind. As much as she had denied it in the moment, she knew now that she cared for the archer more than she had ever cared for anyone on earth. He wasn't just her partner, he was her best friend, her confidant, her lover... Her last lucid thought was a desperate wish that their paths would never cross again, and if they did, that he would kill her on sight.

Natasha's mind was consumed with pain and chemically induced waking nightmares, her whole body thrashed and spasmed, she screamed and strained against her bonds, shuddering and slamming herself against the dirty rough concrete wall. The serum was digging its claws into her mind, stripping away all her barriers and unmaking her. She didn't realize it, but she was crying uncontrollably, screaming her partner's name desperately and pleading with God or the Devil or whoever would listen to stop her heart and make the pain stop. 

Finally after several hours that felt like several days, her body simply couldn't take the strain anymore and Natasha crumpled on the ground, her legs bent awkwardly beneath her and her arms trembling above her head, crimson trails of blood trickling down her bound limbs, marring her porcelain skin. Her vision grayed in and out, she wasn't quite passed out but she wasn't quite conscious either. A blissful numbness washed over her and she might have been sleeping, or she might have simply shut off. It was impossible to tell.

Clint readied himself for the worst, unsure of what he might find exactly inside. If Natasha was in there she likely would turn on him in an instant. He'd have to be quick on the draw, no hesitations, no second thoughts. Not this time...

He stepped to the backside of the building, picking off a few guards around the outside of the door and just inside it's entrance. Though outwardly to any of his fellow agents he would appear as though this was just another job, another day and he worked with ease killing many men and watching them fall silently. But internally Clint's entire being was destroyed, still confused by what was to come and broken hearted by the thought of having to kill Natasha. Maybe it wasn't real to her but what he felt was and those feelings don't simply vanish just because something happened.

Clint rounded the corner and made it up the last flight of stairs. He glanced around, the set up was almost like a hospital wing of sorts though not nearly as sterile. He squeezed his eyes shut for a short moment and listened carefully, wondering if maybe he could hear Natasha's voice. He didn't know what he would prefer to hear, the sound of her being tortured which meant she wasn't the one who'd killed those people, or the sound of her ordering others below her on what to do which meant he'd have confirmation that she was pulled back in the darkness.

He heard nothing but suddenly he felt a presence around him, turning quickly and seeing a man carrying a bloody steel tray and a couple empty syringes. That meant they were working on new recruits; the marksman raised his bow and without even having to aim he fired an arrow through the mans heart. He proceeded down the hall, checking multiple doors and each one remained locked.

Clint peered through a tiny window of one of the few doors at the end of the hall. His eyes widened at the sight, Natasha was chained up, slumped against the wall and covered in blood that from what he could see, appeared to be her own. Instinct kicked in and his shoulders relaxed a little, the rush of adrenaline he now felt wasn't coming from taking down the enemy but from having to rescue his partner. He picked the lock on the door with ease, despite his trembling hands.

As soon as he made it through the door he dropped his bow on the floor, crouching to Natasha's level and taking her face in his hands. "Nat..." his voice broke and he choked out his next words, struggling to free her from her bonds. "Thank god... Dammit please be okay." he pleaded, picking the locks of both chains cuffed around her wrists. "Red?" he asked a little hesitantly, looking her over, his silver eyes searching her face and his hand reaching down to gently run his finger tips over the wounds on her wrists, likely from her struggling against them.

Natasha was pulled from her fog by a deep rough voice and her bound arms being jostled. She whimpered with pain as her hands were released and her arms fell to her sides. She blinked her eyes trying to clear her vision and make sense of her jumbled, pain distorted reality. 

A man came into focus immediately in front of her face, he was staring at her intently and his touch was light on her blistered and bloodied wrists. She winced and flinched away from him, a rush of adrenaline giving her the wherewithal to struggle into a crouching position. Natasha's mind was reeling, she didn't know why she was in such pain or why she was so weak, all she knew was everything hurt but the Black Widow was not about to go out without a fight.

"Who are you? Get the fuck away from me!" She cursed in Russian, flashes of men armed to the teeth just like him holding her down, taking their turns using her body and beating her senseless in between while injecting her with all kinds of vile serums and drugs... Serum... That was important but she couldn't force herself to remember why. 

What was going on? How long has she been a prisoner here? Was this man her captor, or was he just here to have some fun with her while she was alone and weak in her cell? She reached wildly behind her and snatched a sharp serrated blade off a nearby metal shelf. Natasha didn't care if he was with the Red Room or not, she wouldn't let him touch her again. She wouldn't let anyone touch her again. She'd die first.

Clint stared down at Natasha watching as she blinked awake. She moved quickly as soon as her eyes opened completely, maneuvering into a crouching position. The archer eased himself to a semi standing position, holding his hand out and opened as he backed up, trying to silently tell her to relax.

"Natasha it's Clint..." he began to explain, "Your supposed partner." he continued this time in Russian. Natasha moved back and had grabbed hold of a blade just behind her, making Clint instinctively grab his bow off the floor. She began to step around him, slowly, eyeballing him and appearing as though she really had absolutely no idea who he was and what he might do to her. She advanced toward him and the marksmans blocked her arm swinging the blade towards him; he gripped her wrist and forcefully threw her against the wall to the side of them, not quickly enough to avoid her hooking the knife into his arm as he moved back.

Clint's forearm dripped with blood and he gripped it tightly; he could have sworn he heard Natasha laugh as she steadied herself again, spotting his injury. Both their breath coming fast, feeling the rush of a fight; he stepped further away from her, swiftly pulling an arrow from the quiver on his back. He readied his bow, aiming straight at her chest, "Please... Don't make me do this, Tasha. This isn't you... I've seen the real you, you're not like this anymore." he said quietly, pulling the string of his bow back and relaxing his shoulders. He fought his hardest to rid the tears in his eyes but still they came, a few traitorously rolling down his dirt covered cheeks.

The archer shook his head, still in disbelief and unsure if they'd drugged her again or she was pretending not to know him, making the pain in his chest worse than it was before. "Red...?" he pleaded. his voice remained steady despite his emotions and the hurt he felt right now as he saw that glint in her eye was gone, the love and desire he used to see when she looked at him was gone. "I need you..." he whispered shakily through his teeth, desperately trying to focus on the job. I loved you. he thought to himself. He kept his sights on her, readying himself for her next move and waiting, clinging to the thought that maybe she'd break through and come back to him.

Natasha was running on pure adrenaline, flashes of the past distorting reality. She could hear her own heart pounding in her chest, and when she cut into the man's arm she laughed a little at the familiar rush of spilling blood. But when she saw the hurt in his eyes that had nothing to do with physical pain a sense of wrongness turned her insides cold. Who was this man? Why did seeing him in distress affect her so strongly?

He backed away and drew his bow, but she could see it made him sick to aim the bolt at her heart. The redhead suddenly felt sick, shaking her head and gulping for air, but still not letting down her guard. The way he called her Tasha pierced her, confusing her more and bringing emotions to the surface that she didn't understand. 

Suddenly Natasha caught movement to the archer's left, Lorena coming in the open door brandishing a pistol. Her eyes darted from the brunette to the man and back, her heart clenched and she sprang forward without thinking. "No!" She screamed as she dove right into the path of the bullet that was meant for the marksman. It hit her in the chest, knocking her to the floor between them.

Clint's hand trembled slightly as he pulled his bow string back even further. He saw a change in Natasha's stance and expression, a possible sudden realization at who he was. She cocked her head, glancing at the door beside him which made him turn himself, facing a brunette woman just in time to hear gun fire.

Before Clint could even react to seeing the weapon, Natasha hit the floor a small pool of crimson forming around where she laid. The archer raised his bow at the same time the brunette resteadied her hand, aiming at him; he fired the arrow meant for his partner, straight at the woman's front. She fell to the ground with a thud, her gun dropping from her hand and her eyes losing light as she took her final breaths.

Clint leaned over Natasha, crying openly when he looked her over. He dropped his bow from his grasp and his hands hovered over her chest, he pressed his hand to her wound and shook his head, refusing to believe that she was going to leave him. "Tasha, you're gonna be okay. Remember how strong you are... You'll be fine." he whispered, unsure if he was comforting her or himself, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't usually allow himself to get emotional or be affected by anything on a mission but he was always able to open up more when it came to Natasha.

Natasha coughed up blood when her back hit the floor, a crimson flower blossoming on her chest. The pain was clarifying, her memory reassembling itself in her head and the realization hitting her that her deepest wish and worst nightmare had come true. Clint had found her... But only because he had been sent to finish the job he hadn't done last year.

Her partner knelt over her, openly weeping and applying pressure to her gushing wound. "Cupid... It's really you..." She panted, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The sensation in her extremities was diminishing and the edges of her vision were graying out. As her body began to go numb she could feel the serum starting to take over again; she reached up, desperate to touch him one more time before her mind wasn't her own again. "Listen to me, I won't be myself much longer. Quickly, kill me now... I want it to be you... Please Clint." Natasha's voice was wispy and she could taste blood. 

The redhead tried to stay conscious but the blood loss on top of several days without food or water was too much, and she slipped away into the void. She thought she could hear her partner speaking as the blackness closed in, but maybe it was only what her heart wished to hear.

Clint laughed through his tears when Natasha finally spoke. He nodded his head, "'Course it is. I'm right here, Tasha." he comforted, a faint smile coming across his own face as he looked down at her.

Natasha's voice was weak and the archer could see how badly she was hurt despite the fact that she was awake. For now. Her next works struck him hard and deep and he vigorously shook his head, "I can't..." he sobbed, gripping her hand in his as she reached out for him, his voice catching slightly. He really couldn't, if it came down to it he couldn't bring himself to harm her in any way. He was in too deep with her. Natasha faded right in front of him, her eyes fluttering shut and blood trickling from her mouth. "Don't... Please, stay with me. You've got to hang on, Nat!" he pleaded with her.

The marksman managed to get her to safety, quickly calling for back up and leaving his explanation opened. He was unsuccessful on his mission but Fury didn't ask any questions, not yet anyways. Clint got some help with bringing her back to a SHIELD facility to be checked over; he wasn't allowed to see her for the first few hours but they kept him updated on her condition which wasn't all that comforting despite what people thought. He wanted to see her for himself, trusting only his eyes to tell him if she was alive. He hated this. Every bit of it.

Clint sat hunched forward with his head in his hands, his eyes trained on the floor and his fingers tangled into his messy blonde locks. He contemplated what he would do if she didn't make it. She took a bullet for him, risked her life to save his own. Why? And would he be able to live everyday remembering that that shot had been meant for him. He got away with a simple gash in his arm, a mark that if it remained, everyday it would remind him of her. "Agent Barton?" a gentle voice snapped him back from his own thoughts and he looked up to see one of the facilities doctors staring down at him sympathetically.

"Uhh... Yea?" Clint wiped his eye, no tears fell, not for awhile but he still felt the urge. Perhaps they didn't show because that wasn't allowed. Not here, not now. It would show too much about them, his bond with the redhead.

"Agent Romanoff is stable... She lost a lot of blood but we managed to remove the bullet from her chest. She was lucky." The doctor told him slowly, "You can see her if you'd like, though it's unlikely she will be waking soon. You should know that she's restrained... Because theres the possibility the serum is still in her system."

The marksmans heart beat quickened as he listened to the doctor before him. He nodded his head slowly, mumbling a thanks as he stepped away; Clint couldn't force himself to stand from his chair for whatever reason it frightened him to see her again. He worried about what he might see.

After a moment or two of bawling nervously on his thumb and tapping his foot, thinking over if he should just walk away, forget about it and let her go. He couldn't though and he found himself practically sprinting down the semi crappy medical ward that SHIELD used. Clint pushed open the door to her tiny room and slowly walked beside her, the tears he so strangely could fight off around others, coming to his eyes again as he looked at her. He rested his hand on hers, her wrists wrapped in white gauze, covering the gashes caused from her struggling against the restraints on her wrists. His fingers trailed lightly over the bandages, examining her damaged body and his frustration grew when he saw the leather straps holding her to the mattress.

Natasha was floating inside her own head, adrift on a sea of darkness that gradually lifted as she slowly returned to consciousness. She couldn't quite wake up though, it was like being trapped in a dream you couldn't remember any details of. She wondered if she might be dead, her soul waiting in the void to be sent down to hell, and she chuckled internally at the thought. Being in hell would be a blessing compared to living as the Red Room's puppet and turning on her partner again.

Her partner... Was Clint alright? Did he make it out safely? He had killed Lorena, but surely she wasn't the only danger the Ghost Room had to offer. The thought of him rallied her and she struggled against the fog her mind was suspended in. She had wake up, had to make sure he had gotten away from her...

Natasha's eyes fluttered open and she tried to move but met resistance. She was laying on a hospital bed, strapped down at the wrists and ankles. Her heart skipped with panic and she turned to look around her room. It definitely wasn't the same place she had been but she didn't know if she had simply been moved within the Ghost Room facility or had been taken somewhere else. Movement caught her eye and she looked at the doorway, her eyes filling with tears when she saw Clint come in the room. So he had taken her from that awful place... But was she only alive now so they could question her before executing her? 

The archer's silver eyes widened when he saw she was awake and he rushed over to bedside. He automatically reached out to touch her, but then stopped himself, his face tense with worry.

"Clint... It's me." She managed to choke out, her voice raw and weak.

Clint saw Natasha was awake and rushed to her side, stopping himself from grabbing her and pulling her in his arms. He still didn't fully know what she would do but he trusted her. He looked her over again, forcing his emotions down as she stared at him.

Natasha's gaze was soft, like it used to be all those nights they'd spent together and what few free hours they had during the day, when she could let her guard down around him. "Red?" he smiled, a small laugh escaping his throat as he spoke. He'd always called Natasha that, since the very day that she started at SHIELD, at first shed hated it or at least she pretended too but it was a nickname that only he ever used, one of the few comfortable enough to call her by something other than her full name or her code name.

"I know..." he stated quietly, ducking his head down as he moved closer to her bed. He rested a hand on her mattress, lifting his finger to brush lightly against hers. He moved his hand slightly when Natasha's fingers extended, trying to hold onto his own. Clint squeezed his eyes shut and took at deep breath, "Natasha that bullet was meant for me." he stated somewhat harshly, his anger coming through now that she was awake. "It should be me on this bed, not you."

Natasha's heart fluttered when he called her by the nickname he'd given her, the archer had been the first person in her life that had given her a pet name she liked. Many of her targets did that when she seduced them and it always made her sick. But with him it was different; he didn't see her as an object, as a plaything.

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks when he brought up Lorena shooting at him and her intercepting the bullet. "Like hell it was." She responded, her heart twisting with guilt, "The only reason you were there to get shot at in the first place was because of me." Natasha coughed, her throat was tight with pain and emotion but she couldn't stop the words that came spilling out of her, "I couldn't watch you die, not if I could save you... Even when the serum had a hold of my mind, the only thing that felt real and true was my need to keep her from hurting you. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, because I..." Natasha's voice broke, her fingers desperately grasping at the archer's hand.

"Because I love you." She whispered, tears she could no longer contain streaming down her temples into her fiery hair.

 

Clint fought back his own tears as Natasha spoke, his heart wrenching when he saw how pained she was from speaking. He knew she should be resting and now wasn't the time to talk about any of this but he had to say it, he was meant to die or at least be in Natasha's position.

He grasped her hand in his, letting out a shaky breath as he looked at her pained face, straining to get her last words out. The archer gazed at her affectionately waiting patiently for her to finish so he could argue his point already, not that it's matter, they'd never agree. Then her next few words made his heart skip a beat and for a moment he thought he'd heard her wrong.

His chin quivered and what little strength he had to fight his tears down, faded and he broke down beside her. "I love you too, Tasha." Clint squeezed her fingers between his, smiling at her adoringly. He leaned over her bed and kissed her sweetly, lingering there for a moment, careful not to press his weight against her. "I would do anything for you." he murmured, cupping her cheek and gently running his thumb over her rosy cheek. He'd loved Natasha for awhile now but he'd been afraid to admit it even to himself because he knew she wasn't ready for that.

Clint let go of Natasha's hands, smiling down at her when she looked saddened by the loss of contact. "I dont like seeing people other than me tie you up." he explained with a wink. He unfastened the restraints around her wrist and worked his way to her ankles and her arm on the opposite side of the bed. He tugged a chair over with his foot, pulling it beneath him and plopping down to sit beside her, clinging to her fingers. He gingerly lifted her hand to his lips, brushing his lips over the skin of her knuckles. "I love you." he repeated with a grin, his eyes full of love and unshed tears of joy.

Natasha felt like her heart was going to burst, speaking those perilous three words she never thought she would say to anyone for any reason. It was like diving off a cliff, but then Clint had been right there to catch her, admitting the same feelings and kissing her tenderly. She felt like a gaping void inside her she hadn't even been aware of had been filled. 

The archer moved to free her from the restraints tying her to the bed, which were honestly a little ridiculous to begin with since at the moment she was so weak she could hardly lift her head let alone escape. Still, she knew full well why she had been bound, and she bit her lip nervously. She gripped his fingers holding hers, "Clint... Maybe you should leave the straps on. The serum is still in me, I still might lose control until it's out of my system, and I don't want you to get in trouble for freeing me until I get a chance to explain-" Natasha began, but she was suddenly cut off by a doctor backpedaling into the room and two agents shoving their way past him with their weapons drawn.

"Agent Barton, step away from the prisoner now!" The base commander barked at the archer, his voice harsh with anger. Clint whirled and placed himself between the agents and Natasha, bristling for a fight.

"No, Clint don't!" Natasha pleaded, gripping his forearm trying desperately to calm her partner. "Please, it's all right. I'll do whatever they want-" The machines monitoring the redhead's vitals flashed and blared a high-pitched alarm as her heartbeat skyrocketed and couldn't regulate from the stress. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she struggled to breathe, unable to cope with the roller coaster of emotions in her fragile state. Her heart monitor flat-lined and the two men with guns hesitated in their advance on the spy.

The doctor elbowed his way to Natasha's bedside and felt her pulse, cursing under his breath. He pushed the call button on the wall and yelled over his shoulder, "I need a crash cart in here, and everyone with 'Agent' in front of their names get the fuck out for Christ's sake, doctor's orders!" He tipped Natasha's head back and tried to help her breathe until the nurses came in with a crash cart.

Clint worked at her restraints, frowning when Natasha tried to stop him from continuing. He ignored her completely and fidgeted with the leather bounds around her wrist. He heard the door push open suddenly followed by a man screaming at him to stop what he was doing.

Without hesitation the archer moved between the men and Natasha's bed, he was perfectly willing to fight them. He stood tall, his fists clenched at his sides and his entire stance showing he wasn't going to stand down. He felt his partners hand gently grabbing his forearm, which caused his tensed muscles to relax. Clint nodded slightly, his face softening as he looked back at Natasha as she spoke. Suddenly her voice cut off and the machines she was hooked up to blared, telling Clint something was completely wrong. He clung to her hand, fighting hard not to cry in front of the two armed men.

Natasha flat lined and the marksman lost it, desperately trying to push back past the doctor to get to her when it registered. "No!" he cried out, "Natasha, please!" The doctor ordered for him to leave, his face showing he wasn't going to tolerate Clint arguing his point but the archer wasn't one to stand down easily. One of the armed men grabbed Clint's upper arm, trying to coax him back. He shook his head vigourusly, desperately wanting to be freed of the mans grasp.

"Let me go! She's my partner! Let me go!" he hollered to the man who knew he needed to remove the agent from the situation so they could work on Natasha without interruption. Clint knew too that he had to leave, he couldn't help but when he saw that line go flat, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be with her, if he lost her he had to be beside her. "You bring her back!!" the archer yelled at the doctor as he was rugged through the door.

Clint stormed down the hall, finally pulling from the dumbass base commanders hold. He hit the wall beside him with the side of his fist as he walked down the hall, turning into and empty room and leaning his back against the wall. He slumped down to the floor out of sight, he hoped, breaking down with his knees pulled to his chest and his tears soaking his cheeks and palms as he buried his face in his hands. Clint cried himself out for a brief moment before steadying himself and catching his breath.

It was a struggle to bring the redhead back, and she was unconscious again for several hours. The doctors protested it but ultimately Natasha's body was strapped to her bed again, the base leaders refusing to budge an inch even though the redhead was clearly in no condition to escape. Two armed men were posted outside her door with orders to only let medical personnel into the room until the special agent dispatched to interview the redhead arrived.

Fury had sent Coulson as soon as Clint had brought Natasha in to the Russian auxiliary base. The director was angry that his direct order had been disobeyed, but he was willing to hear Barton out and let his most trusted subordinate get to the bottom of the situation.

Natasha was still out when he arrived several hours later, and much to his surprise Barton wasn't lurking outside her door like he had been expecting him to be. Phil cracked a little smile, knowing the only other place the archer might be. He headed to the shooting range in the basement of the base that was attached to the armory, and sure enough the marksman was there, firing shot after flawless shot at the his target. 

He had been informed by the base commander that Barton had 'recklessly removed the prisoner's bonds' and he had ordered the lock down on her room specifically to keep the archer away because 'that manipulative Russian bitch had her hooks in the man so deep he couldn't be trusted around her.' Phil wanted to hear Clint's side of the story, and Natasha's once she was awake.

"So, are you ever going to follow one of my orders again, or do you only make exceptions when Romanov is involved?" Phil chastised the agent in a good-natured tone of voice, offering a sympathetic smile when Clint looked at him over his shoulder, firing another arrow that hit its mark just as surely as if he had been watching it.

Clint had given up on trying to get in to see Natasha, tired of arguing with the guards by her door. They wouldn't budge, unlike him they followed orders to the tee. Having nothing else to do and growing exhausted, he had to find another outlet to get himself out of his own mind so he went down to shoot.

He never needed the practice but having the distraction and doing something he loved, always made him feel better. He heard someone come in but ignored the sound, firing arrow after arrow at the target. He knew Coulson would be coming to talk to him and he knew Fury was pissed that he'd gone against his strict orders... But it wasn't the first time.

The archer turned to look at Coulson over his shoulder when he heard him speak. His face unreadable, he felt numb now, there wasn't anything he could do to help and he couldn't see his partner, the woman he loved having almost lost her twice now. "Just so happens each time I've had to go against your orders, she's been involved. Maybe it's the program that needs to look into the situation a little more." he stated flatly.

Clint lowered his bow and turned fully to face his handler. He sighed, "What do you want me to say? I'm not going to apologize for making my own call. I know she's different. She's not who everyone makes her out to be..." the archer began. He slowly explained to Coulson what had happened and why he didn't go through with the mission. "She took a bullet for me Coulson... Someone who's truly part of the Red Room, wouldn't do that. They drugged her again and she fought it off enough to realize who I was again."

Coulson calmly listened to the archer's explanation, nodding slightly when he finished. "Well, you know that your word alone is good enough for me. But I'm going to have to talk to Agent Romanov as well, make sure her story checks out with our intel and what was left at the site she was being held at. This 'Ghost Room' as they're calling themselves is good at covering their tracks, they wiped the place pretty clean." Phil could see how affected the marksman was by all of this, and his heart twisted with sympathy.

"If its any consolation, Fury was angry that you went against orders but he seemed relieved as well. I think he really does want to believe that we can still trust Natasha. But he's got to have solid proof to justify that decision to trust her to bring to the Council, they're already down his throat that she's still alive." He checked his watch. He was about to ask how long the redhead had been out, but then the men were interrupted by a nurse peeking her head in the door of the shooting range.

"Agent Romanov is awake sir, I thought I would come warn you that the commander is on his way to her room now..." The woman told Clint, looking over her shoulder nervously. She had seen the archer put up a fight to see the woman in the hallway that morning, she didn't exactly know their connection but she had seen how worried he was for the patient and personally she thought her superior was being too harsh keeping an armed guard on a woman that couldn't even sit up on her own let alone pose a threat to the base.

Clint listened silently to what Coulson had to say about the circumstances. He slowly walked over to pack up his bow, "We have to stop the Ghost Room... As far as I know they only gave Natasha one dose and she was affected by it. If she wasn't Natasha Romanov I don't think she'd have been able to fight off the serum like she did." the archer commented, "It's a lot stronger than before and I want to take them down, put an end to this whole thing. I want her to be able to move on..." he murmured, looking down at the floor before lifting his head again to meet Coulsons eyes.

It meant a lot to Clint to hear that Fury seemed relieved too; Natasha needed people who cared about her outside of just him. "We'll give him all the proof he needs and get the Counsil off his back." he turned when the nurse came in to tell him about Natasha. She was awake and finally Clint could relax a little more; he felt the tension in his shoulders ease. "Thanks." the archer said to the nurse, giving her a smile. He doubted they would let him see her but he hoped Coulson would give him a reason to go in and at least check on his partner.

He looked back at Coulson, "Might be best we go up there together... The commander isn't exactly a huge fan of mine right now, nor I of him." Clint chuckled, he rubbed his eyes letting out a sigh. He didn't want the commander to be with Natasha again, a little afraid of what he might do or say to her. Natasha was injured and broken right now, likely pretty shaken up about the whole situation. "I've gotta see her, Coulson." The marksman told him quietly, his voice broken and it was clear how affected he was by this too. Natasha wasn't only his partner, he loved her and she loved him.

Phil was a little taken aback by the intensity of the emotion in the archer's last statement, usually the archer gave nothing away. But then again Natasha was probably the closest thing Barton had to a best friend; between being ordered to kill her, saving her, and almost losing her all over again he had been through a lot the past 24 hours.

The senior agent nodded, turning and walking with Clint up to the infirmary. "Don't worry, this is all over the commander's head at this point. I'm acting on Fury's behalf, I have the final say on everything concerning Romanov." He gave the man a little crooked grin.

Natasha woke up feeling like their was a twenty pound weight on her chest, she struggled to draw in a full breath and her throat was sore where they had forced a tube down her throat to help her breathe. She blinked and rolled her head, startled by the dour man looming over her bed, staring at her with his hand resting on his sidearm. His uniform placed him as someone of high rank, which explained why he was in here when earlier a nurse had told her that anyone non-medical was banned from her room.

She felt a prickle of fear run up her spine, she was weak and alone and this man was obviously convinced she was a threat to his base. Natasha didn't allow it to show on her face, and she stared back up at him without blanching at the anger in his eyes.

"You think you have everyone else here fooled, don't you?" He hissed, unsnapping the strap over his holster. "I've been tracking the Ghost Room for weeks, and this is just the kind of stunt those fuckers would pull to get back in to the higher-ups good graces. You took that bullet on purpose, didn't you?" He growled, a little muscle in his jaw twitching with rage.

Natasha eyed him with all the indignation she could muster. "Yes, I did take that bullet intentionally... For reasons your feeble mind could never comprehend." She spat back at him, if he was going to kill her like a coward while no one was looking she at least wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he'd managed to frighten her.

Clint gave his handler a weak smile, he should be fighting back his urge to see his partner more especially in front of Phil. But he trusted the man and quite frankly he was too drained to really care what anyone assumed about the pair of agents. They all knew he cared about her, Natasha was the only partner he had kept this long and she instantly became the only person he felt easy opening up to and truly befriending.

The two walked back up the steps quickly advancing to the floor of the infirmary where Natasha was being held. Coulson had no complications getting both himself and Clint into her room, the guards step aside but with a worried or possibly confused look on their face. When Clint pushed through the door, silently stepping further into the room, he noticed why. The commander. The nurse had told him that he was coming but the marksman had expected to beat him there.

Clint's eyes traced the man before him, his back facing the two agents and he noticed the commanders emptied gun holster. He swiftly pulled him into a choked hold, his free arm grabbing hold of the wrist of the commanders weapon weilding hand. He slammed the others arm against the wall, knocking his hold on the gun. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I outta snap your fucking neck!" Clint screamed at him. "I can do it too... Easy. You know that I can, sir." the archer spat out, enraged to see Natasha's life being threatened once more.

He knew he shouldn't be acting this way but his loce for that redhead sitting near him, watching his every move, made him do stupid things. He was tired of all this, in fact he was tired in general; Clint hadn't slept much, maybe an hour or two since Natasha had been brought in. He was a little sleep deprived and that might be a big reason why he was being so hasty along with seeing her laying there.

Natasha looked at him, his arms still flexed around the commanders throat and he felt Phil's hands tugging on him, trying to pry him off the other man. He didn't know if Coulson had seen what happened exactly but he was watching now and the look in Natasha's eyes and hearing her soft sweet voice again made him release the base commander. His breath came fast, his heart beat pulsing hard through out his entire body and he desperately tried to make himself calm down.

Phil only had a second to take in the fact that the base commander was threatening the redhead before Clint was on him, roughly disarming him and putting the man in a neck-breaking choke. "Whoa, easy Barton! Let him go!" He ordered, trying to get the archer to free the sputtering man. 

Natasha gasped when she saw Clint manhandle the commander away from her, he was so angry he was liable to make good on his words and kill the man, which wouldn't be good for him, or her case. "Clint please... I need you with me, not locked up in a dark hole for killing a superior officer." She murmured in Russian, hoping he would listen to her. She smiled at him weakly when he released his grip on the man and turned to face her, his face looked haggard with exhaustion but there was relief in his silver eyes.

The archer bent and picked up the commander's weapon, backing away as he was told but strategically kept his body between Natasha and the man who had threatened her until Agent Coulson had ushered him out of the room. The men stood just outside her room exchanging heated words, but the redhead didn't really care what they were saying at the moment. She was too relieved that once again, Clint had barely snatched her from the worst fate she could imagine, first being turned back into the Red Room's puppet, and second being killed while she was utterly helpless by a moron with a god-complex.

Her partner whirled to face her again, his eyes moist. Her heart twisted, it was obvious to her that he was barely hanging on to the threads of his composure. She tried to reach for him, but her wrists were still bound and she winced as the leather strap rubbed on her bandaged wrist. "It's going to be all right Clint. I'm sorry I made you worry..." She comforted him, smiling at him softly. Even with the risk of Coulson coming back in the room he bent over her and kissed her tenderly, as if he was afraid she would evaporate in the next five seconds after almost losing her yet again.

Clint returned Natasha's soft smile and reached to pick up the base commanders weapon from the floor. He stood between Natasha and the man who'd been threatening her life again; he kept his finger hooked around the trigger, prepared to do what it took to make him stand down if needed. It wouldn't help either of their situations but he sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone hurt Natasha, not anymore.

Coulson walked the commander out of the room, leaving Clint and Natasha alone together. He turned himself around and tears were already starting to brim in his soft silver eyes. He lost it when the redhead spoke to him again, the soothing sound of her loving tone finally pushing him to his breaking point and tears rolled down his cheek and dripped from his jaw, covered in short sandy scruff.

Clint didn't care that Coulson might walk in and see them, he couldn't risk being pulled away from her again without one last reminder of how he felt. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers in a tender loving kiss. "I love you." he whispered as he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and cupping her face in his hand. "Don't you scare me like that again. Don't you know the rule I told you last time?" he chuckled through his tears, straightening out again so he could look at her.

"My one rule if you're going to be my partner, you're not allowed to die." he reminded her, smiling adoringly at Natasha. He reached down for her hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around hers, "I'm sorry you have to be here... That you have to be locked up like this. But Coulson seems to be on our side and we will get this worked out. I promise you. I won't let them take you away from me, Tasha."

Clint's words were like a soothing balm, even if she couldn't fathom why this man cared for her so much it was a relief to know that he did. Natasha grinned at him as he pulled back, gripping his fingers when he took her hand. "I love you too." She whispered.

She nodded, feeling some of the pressure lift off her chest when Clint told her that Agent Coulson was inclined to believe in her. If he did, that would go a long way to convincing Fury that she was taken against her will and had never betrayed them. "It's all right, I'll bear with it. Anything I can do to show I'm not a traitor, I'll do." She reassured him.

Coulson put the base commander in his place, though he was professional enough not to let his internal sense of satisfaction show at the way the man was gingerly rubbing his neck as they spoke. He went back into Natasha's room and spent the next hour or so interviewing both the redhead and her partner until he was satisfied that he had all the information he needed to compile a comprehensive report for Director Fury. Near the end of it a nurse came in to give Natasha more medicine and told the men that they needed to leave and let the patient rest more.

Phil stood up and gently patted Natasha's hand. "I'm glad we got this all sorted out Agent Romanov. Good to have you back, get some rest." He smiled at her, nodding at Clint before leaving to find his quarters for the night. The nurse unfastened Natasha's restraints per Coulson's orders, injecting her IV with a dose of SHIELD nanobiotics and telling her to call if she needed anything.

The two agents were left alone in the sickroom again. Natasha smiled at her partner, sighing softly. She couldn't remember having a week this rough in a long time, but now she had Clint at her side, and it gave her the strength to believe she could survive it. "You should get some rest, Cupid... Have you slept at all since bringing me back here?" She asked, reaching for his hand.

 

Clint patiently waited and watched as Natasha explained to Phil what had happened. He kept quiet throughout their exchange, having to force himself to focus on what was going on around him. He was fading quickly, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes falling closed over and over as he struggled to keep himself upright. Eventually he resorted to leaning himself up against the wall beside them both.

Coulson finished his questioning, seeming satisfied with his findings as a nurse came in to check over Natasha once more. Phil stood up giving both agents a reassuring grin and the way he called Natasha, Agent Romanov again made the archer smile, he knew now that this soon would all be behind them.

When their handler left and the nurse removed Natasha's restraints which eased Clint a lot more. They were trusting her again and it made him happy to see her body physically relax back into the mattress. They were left alone once more and he quickly stepped over to her side. Natasha raised her now free hand, reaching out for him and he took hold of her fingers, shaking his head at her question; a smile spreading across his face when she called him Cupid in the way she so often did. He never thought he'd hear it again.

"I tried... You know how I get though. I had something... Someone," he corrected with a tired smile, "more important to think about than to sleep. I've functioned even after going multiples days with only an hour nap on occasion. I'll be alright." the archer saw Natasha giving him a look that told him she didn't care, she wanted him taking care of himself too and he knew that. He sighed, chuckling lightly at her almost scolding mother look, "I'm not leaving you again, Red." he told her softly but sternly. If he was going to sleep, he wanted to be where he could hear her and feel her right beside him. Even if that meant resorting to the floor or another night slumped over in a chair. He'd slept in much worse conditions and at this point he could collapse pretty much any given location.

Natasha shook her head lightly, knowing she wouldn't be able to send her partner off to find his own bed; and to be honest a part of her didn't want him to leave her side, just in case that nasty man with an itchy trigger finger came back. She sighed, squeezing his fingers. What she really wanted was for him to lay on the bed with her, but she didn't think that would go over very well if they were seen since she wasn't technically in the clear yet.

"All right, but if you're going to make due in one of those chairs then take this." She responded, reaching behind her back with her free hand and tugging one of the two pillows she had propping her up out and holding it out to him. He started to protest and she raised her scarlet brows at him, silently telling him not to waste both their waning energy arguing with her. It wasn't much but at least it would make sleeping in a chair with his head propped against the wall slightly more bearable.

He took the pillow from her and tossed it on the chair closest to her bed. She tugged on his arm before he could move away from her, he immediately understood the look in her eyes and leaned down to kiss her softly. "Thank you for coming for me, Clint." Natasha murmured against his lips, tears pricking her eyes. The archer had saved her from the brink of darkness, from the edge of death, from her own loneliness. She didn't know what she had ever done to deserve having him in her life, but she was determined never to lose him. 

Clint sighed, somewhat frustrated but appreciative of Natasha offering him her spare pillow. "I'll be fine. I want you to be comfortable..." he started to argue with her but the way she looked at him told him it was best not to. He reluctantly took the cushion from her hands.

He turned and threw the pillow onto the empty chair nearest to her bed. He felt Natasha gently squeezing his arm and pulling him back to her before he could move to sit himself down. She didn't have to say anything, the redhead and the archer simply understood each other and immediately he leaned down, kissing her sweetly with the all the love he could express in the small gesture.

"Hush..." Clint whispered, telling her there was no need, no need for her to thank him for something like that. He pecked her lips once again, lingering just above her face when he spoke, "I'll always come for you, sweetheart." he told her with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes bright and gleaming with unshed tears.

The marksman straightened himself, plopping down into the seat right beside his partner. He closed his eyes, sighing with relief and happiness and whatever else he felt as he held Natasha's hand tightly in his, sleep threatening to take him. It took a few short moments for Clint to succumb to his exhaustion, finally able to relax knowing that she was alright and he was beside her, protecting her and chasing away any bit of darkness that came and threatened to take her from him.

The pair of assassins along with Agent Coulson stayed in Russia until Natasha was healed enough to be taken back to the Helicarrier. Since the redhead had been on a probationary status until just a couple months ago the floating base of operations was for all intents and purposes her home, though she had a couple safe havens tucked away here and there that not even SHIELD knew about.

Clint was called out on a mission to New York during Natasha's medical leave, but she was as safe as she could be with Fury and Phil keeping an eye on her recovery. Only a very small handful of people were privy to the events in Moscow or the existence of the Ghost Room, so things returned to normal for Natasha around the base fairly quickly.

The redhead pushed herself well beyond her limits in an effort to get back up to the high standard she set herself. Weakness in herself was worse than death in her opinion. She was almost ready for active duty again when she got a message from her partner that he had bought himself an apartment in Manhattan. This surprised her since the archer was not the kind of man to put down roots, but then again he had only gotten a six-month lease to start with.

She was cleared to leave the base even if she couldn't take missions for another week, so Natasha offered to come help him unpack. He probably didn't have much to unpack really, but if she was honest with herself she just wanted an excuse to see him.

The redhead flew to the SHIELD base that actually wasn't too far from Clint's new place conveniently enough. She walked down the road, catching eyes and turning heads as always. Blend in by standing out, that was her forte. She stopped at a corner marked and got a six pack of her partner's favorite beer, but she couldn't help but feel like that wasn't enough... She stopped in a little boutique on the way, milling about in the aisles not even sure what she was looking for.

She practically stumbled upon something perfect, and even though she felt a little sheepish making such a big deal over going to Clint's new place for the first time, it made her smile to purchase the housewarming gifts she had found.

Clint had been sent on a mission in New York while Natasha was still recovering. He was hesitant to take the job because he didn't know if he'd be able to fully focus or not without knowing how his partner was doing. With a little convincing, some semi threatening words from Fury and some comforting ones from Coulson, the archer took the assignment. Not that the director would let him say no.

He was taking a liking to the city and like Seattle, it was easier to go unnoticed. He found a place that was a little off the beaten path, enough that he wasn't fully part of the hustle and bustle of the inner city. The apartment wasn't anything fancy, a small flat on the corner of the street beside a chinese food place which wasn't half bad; it wasn't the nicest of places on the outside but the few neighbors were kind and the inside was surprisingly clean and a decent size. Natasha was surprised when he'd told her he made somewhat of a commitment by signing a six month lease and honestly he was shocked too. The marksman had never been the type to settle down and have a place to call 'home.'

For whatever reason he was unsure of he did it... Maybe it was because he felt it was a good get away from SHIELD, an escape of sorts for himself and on occasion Natasha if she wanted. There was a base nearby and his partner had offered to help him unpack; he didn't have much, a mattress he'd just bought, a few boxes of mostly clothes, some old shield uniforms and boots that he'd worn ragged but still kept. His only effort at moving in was opening up one box to find a bottle opener so he could enjoy his last beer, no luck on his search so he resorted to using the counter top.

Clint took a swig of his last Pacifico and leaned up against the counter, scanning his modest apartment. It wasn't much and he certainly would need to buy some decor crap to make he more personal but it was nice that the place came fully furnished. The walls a cream color and the furniture a little modern and clean.

The archer sighed, taking another drink while he waited. He liked it and he hoped she did too. He heard the buzz of someone calling up to him, requesting to be let in; the sound would take some getting used to. He set down his bottle and kicked aside a strewn box, making his way to the call box so he could allow Natasha up. He laughed when he heard her voice now coming through, complaining that he was taking too long. "If I keep you down there long enough, does that make my pizza free or?..." he joked, buzzing the redhead in after a moment. He heard her knock on the door, unlocking it and tugging it open for her, "Hey I ordered a blonde. Hmm... Guess you could borrow one of my wigs." he teased, smiling and seeing the false irritation on her face. He kissed her in greeting, multiple times, he looked down at her hands, "Awe you got me beer." he grinned like a small giddy child, taking the six pack from her hand and motioning for her to step inside. "What's in the bag?" he craned his neck, curiously trying to see what else she had brought.

Natasha rolled her blue eyes as she stood out on the street waiting for Clint to finish being amused with himself and buzz her in. She was surprised at the butterflies she felt fluttering in her stomach as she knocked on his door, but she was immediately able to push them down and give her partner a derisive unladylike snort at his 'Blonde' comment.

"I only play dress-up in my own costumes, thank you very much. And that would cost you extra, Cupid." She chided him, but was unable to maintain her annoyed look when Clint leaned in and kissed her several times in a row. She let him take the beer from her and stepped into his modest but decent apartment, her eyes automatically sweeping the space for points of entry and corners that could conceal threats. It was all part of her Red Room programming, she didn't hardly notice herself doing it anymore.

She swung the large bag behind her legs, a pang of shyness making her voice uneven. Natasha looked up at her partner through her long lashes, the corner of her full pout tugging up in a hesitant smile. "It's nothing really, I just... Well it's traditional in this country to bring a housewarming gift on your first visit to a new home, right?" The redhead couldn't believe how ridiculous she was being, her mouth was actually dry from nerves as she handed him the tote bag.

"I wasn't exactly sure what you had on hand so..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to justify her presents. It had been fun picking them out, but now that Clint was curiously rummaging through the bag her heart was pounding as she waited to see if he approved of her gifts. She had bought two square throw pillows with a graphic pattern of blue arrows across them for his couch, a set of thick warm toned gray towels, and a nice coffee maker. He always complained about the coffee at SHIELD, so he could at least have nice coffee when he was at home. The redhead tried to stick with practical gifts, though the pillows were really more just because when she saw them she had immediately thought of the marksman.

 

Clint narrowed his eyes at his partner but a smile still remained on his face as she spoke. He could see and feel that she was nervous, looking at him shyly and somewhat indirectly. He turned around, stepping further into his new apartment and placing the six pack on the long counter of the opened kitchen. Natasha followed behind him and he faced her again, unable to help the laugh that escaped his lips as she continued. "I suppose. But I didn't expect you to get me anything, Tash." he replied, taking the tote back from her hands and setting it on the counter for him to dig through easily.

The archer pulled the towels out first, grinning up at her as he did so. He quirked an eyebrow playfully, excited to see what was next. He began pulling out the coffee pot and placing it, box and all on the counter. He made a sound of pure excitement in his throat, "Finally I can have a descent cup." he commented, returning his attention to the gifts and chuckling at what he found next, two pillows patterened with arrows. "Real subtle, Red." his laugh bellowed through out the open floor plan. Natasha started to defend the gift and Clint quickly stopped her suddenly, shaking his head and holding his finger to his lips.

The marksman stepped into her space, "I love them. Honestly I do." he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her sweetly, "Thank you. For all of it." he pecked her lips once more before moving away from her. He grabbed two beers from the pack Natasha had just brought, using the counter again to pop off the caps and offering one to her. He smiled as she took it from him and he turned to grab the pillows from off the counter, tossing them on each end of the bare white couch.

Clint plopped down on the sofa and Natasha followed, sitting down beside him and crossing her legs beneath her. He reached his arm around the back of the couch, looking over at her, still smiling and his partner finally seemed a little more relaxed than when she had first entered. "Thanks for coming over." he said, leaning his head back a little and grunting as he relaxed into the sofa.

Natasha worried her lower lip between her teeth as he pulled the items out one by one, a light blush staining her cheeks when he seemed pleased by the coffee pot. She shot him a little look of indignation over the pillows though. "Well you don't exactly make a big secret of your man-crush on Robin Hood you know..." Her voice trailing off again as Clint reassured her that he really did like all her gifts. He kissed her sweetly and she felt a little lightheaded from it.

The marksman cracked a couple bottles unceremoniously with the edge of his counter, handing her one and moving past her to flop himself down on his couch. She shook her head slightly and joined him, more at ease knowing he liked her gifts. She smiled at him, taking a drink from her bottle and then looking around the open space. "Anytime. Have you decided where you're going to put the couch yet?"" She asked, slightly amused that it had just been left slightly askew in the center of the room. A few cardboard boxes were piled around it and in the hallway leading to what she presumed to be the bathroom and his bedroom. 

The archer looked at her like it hadn't occurred to him that the couch wasn't fine in its current location, and she laughed lightly at him. "You're hopeless, Barton." She shook her head, her long red curls coming loose from where they had been tucked behind her ear. Natasha turned to look over the back of the couch and her delicate brow furrowed at what she saw, then her face softened with a pleased smile. "Is that a guitar? You never told me you played before." Her blue eyes slid back to her partner, waiting for him to either fess up or make up some bogus excuse for having the instrument.

 

Clint sat forward enough to take a drink, making a pleased and refreshed sound that proved he enjoyed Natasha's first gift. He turned his head lazily to look at her when she asked about the couch. He looked down at the piece of furniture and then around the room, unable to see anything wrong with its current location. He chuckled at her statement, "It doesn't matter where it's at, I'm going to sit on it just the same."

He took another drink, his heart skipping a beat when Natasha pointed out his acoustic guitar leaning up against the wall. The archer had meant to hide that before she arrived, the only reason it was even out was because besides his tooth brush and some clean hnderwear, it was all he really needed. Playing it relaxed him almost as much as going to the shooting rage. he wasn't embarassed that he played he just didn't make a point in telling people. It was his own passion and he liked keeping his music to himself.

Clint sat upright, turning his head to look at the instrument as if he didn't know it was even there. "Looks like it." he stated casually, shrugging his shoulders at her next comment. "Uhh yea... I've been playing for I don't know how many years. It never really came up in conversation."

The archer took another drink of his beer, turning back away from the instrument. He picked at the label on his half empty bottle, Then suddenly felt Natasha's eyes on him as though what he said wasn't good enough or something, she was mad he didn't tell her, he assumed anyways. He looked back over at her, "What?" Natasha raised her brows at him and the look she gave him suggested something he had hoped she wouldn't ask for. "No. The answer is no!..." She pouted a little, doing her best to get what she wanted from him.

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" and her efforts were working. Clint sighed, shaking his head, setting his beer on the floor and then reaching around behind him to grab his guitar. He scowled at her but it was a faint effort to be angry, she knew just how to work him and he hated that he caved so easily. "This stays between you and me all right?" he asked, already beginning to strum.

Natasha was somewhat disappointed that he was trying to brush off her unspoken request to hear him play, but the redhead would not be put off that easily. She stared at him insistently, almost boring holes through him; knowing she was getting to him and adding a little pout to make him crack. His resolve quickly crumbled and she grinned triumphantly. She set her bottle down on the floor and gave her partner her full attention as he began to play.

Natasha wasn't very familiar with the song he had chosen, when she listened to music it was usually classical. But hearing his low voice and watching his dexterous fingers coax the sweet melody from his instrument was pure bliss. Much like his bow he handled the guitar like it was an extension of himself. It was obvious enjoyed playing and she decided his singing voice was her new favorite sound.

He finished playing and gently set the guitar down propped against a short stack of boxes. Natasha leaned forward and cupped Clint's face in both her hands, kissing him deeply to show him she was pleased that he had relented and played for her. "You are full of surprises, Clint Barton." She murmured against his lips, trembling a little when his hands swept up her back and he wrapped his arms around her small frame, pulling her into his lap. Natasha melted into his warmth and craned her head for a better angle to kiss him again, humming into his mouth as their tongues slid together intimately. 

It was strange and wonderful to the spy to find that simply being here like this with her partner filled her so completely with happiness there was no room in her for anything else. She had missed him during their time apart though she had stubbornly refused to admit it to herself until this moment. Natasha ran her hands up Clint's muscled chest and up over his shoulders to thread into his sandy spiked hair, tugging on him slightly. He growled in his throat and nipped at her lip, his hands roaming her curves greedily and making her breathing hitch.

 

Clint set down his guitar and as soon as he turned Natasha pulled him in for a kiss. He smiled back at her when she pulled away, breaking their kiss only slightly as she spoke. His hands ran along her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her small waist and pulling her to rest in his lap.

Natasha kissed him again, the look in her eyes changing as she did so. The archer kissed her ravenously, their tongues battling for dominance as her hands slid slowly up his chest. She carded her fingers through his sandy blonde hair, tugging at his short locks and earning a growl from deep in his throat. He pulled away, nipping her lip and moving to kiss and bite at Natasha neck; his hands roamed over her gorgeous curves, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms once more. Clint had missed her the entire time they were apart and even more so considering what happened over such a short period and the words they'd exchanged with one another before he had to leave.

The redhead rocked her hips against him, his arrousal beginning to grow as she pressed her body into him. She nibbled along his jaw and up to his ear, making his moan again as her hands slid down his muscled frame, her nails skidding over his abs as she pulled off his navy blue tee. His breath hitched and he kissed her deeply again, feeling now like he couldn't have her fast enough. He tugged her shirt off roughly and if his apartment wasn't a disaster and he wasn't do turned on, he'd have offered to move to his bedroom. Though she didn't seem to care much based on the sounds she was making as Clint nipped at her cleavage, his tongue running over her fullness.

Natasha quickly rid the archer of his t-shirt, their lips clashing ardently before he followed suit with her top. She ground her center against the hard bulge straining against his dark cargo pants, gasping as his hungry mouth wandered over her cleavage. Her panties were soaking with her need for him and she reached between them to unfasten his pants, stroking his length in time with his ragged breathing.

His rough hands slid up her back and unclasped her bra, he growled against her skin as she pumped his shaft and latched on to her hardened nipple, worrying it with his teeth and earning a mewl of pleasure from her throat. She slid backwards off his lap and his hands immediately went for the waist of her skinny jeans, yanking them off before she got the chance to do it herself. But instead of immediately pulling her back onto his lap, the archer leaned forward  
and gripped her hips, mouthing at her center through her wet panties.

Her hands twisted into his hair and she let out a low moan, "Oh God yes..." She bucked her hips against his face involuntarily and he yanked her panties to the side, his nose nudging her clit as he dipped his tongue into her center. He spread her wider and she propped her foot up on the couch to give him better access, his name falling from her lips over and over as he ate her out. Her legs started shaking as her pleasure built, she moaned entreatingly when he pulled back, his mouth shining with her slickness.

Natasha was so close to her peak that when she straddled Clint's lap and sank down on his hard length she saw stars; her most feminine muscles fluttering and clenching around him as she rose almost all the way off of him and sheathed him to the hilt again. She rode out her orgasm, capturing his lips in a fevered kiss and tasting herself on him. He gripped her hips hard and thrust up quicker into her body; she felt another orgasm unfurl in her lower abdomen on the heels of the first, gasping and digging her nails into Clint's shoulders as it swept through her. "Oh God I can't stop coming, you feel so good baby... Ahh..." She moaned desperately, her pleasure stealing her breath away.

Clint moaned as Natasha unfastened his pants, stroking his length and making his breath come fast. He tugged off her bra and immediately latched onto her hardened nipple, sucking and biting along her fullness and laving his tongue over the point of her peak. She moved off his lap and he roughly yanked off her skinny jeans, leaning into her and sliding down her body to mouth her through her panties. He could feel how soaked she was already through the fabric and he pulled aside her underwear, exposing her to him and greedily lapped up her juices.

The archer growled slightly as he tasted her hungrily, his tongue dipping into her center and he felt her bucking up against his face as she spread herself wider for him. He knew she was close so he pulled away from her core, raising up and smirking as he licked his lips, tasting her remaining slickness on the sides of his mouth.

Clint leaned back and Natasha didn't need any encouragement to climb atop him once more. She slid down onto his length with ease, her core practically dripping already. He moaned, his breath shaky as she rode him, her core clenching erratically around his throbbing shaft. She leaned down, kissing him passionately and moaning into his mouth as she fell over the edge.

Clint took control from there, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise and thrusting upward into her slick center. Her most feminine muscles clamped around him once more, drawing him farther into her and he felt her wetness on his thighs as her second orgasm washed over her. The marksman cried out to her, "Fuck baby... Ahh... Yes!" he breathed, his head lolling backwards as he came.

He panted as they both came down from their pleasurful highs. Natasha kissed him, her breath hot against his face as she broke away with a pleased and fulfilling smile spread across her face. Clint grinned at her and laughed a little as she slid off of him and collapsed against his hard frame. He kissed the top of her head, gathering her snugly in his strong arms, his fingers lightly brushing over the soft skin of her lower back. "Seems I could use that guitar to my advantage." he chuckled, still struggling to catch his breath. "I like this a lot better than unpacking."

Natasha felt her lover come deep inside her and it pleased her on a deeper level than just the physical to be so intimately connected to him. She kissed the archer fervently, smiling at him as she slipped off of him and let herself relax against his body. A little part of her still balked at this, warning her that it was unwise to completely let go and trust another person like this. Laying skin to skin with her partner as they wound down from their lovemaking like a 'normal couple' might was a simple pleasure reserved for those that didn't have a past like she did.

She forced the feeling down and sighed deeply in contentment, turning her head in to kiss Clint's chest and nuzzling closer into his heat. "Easy Cupid, that was just you breaking even for that Blonde comment." She teased him, leaning her head back to flash him a sly grin. "This is more fun than unpacking, but I was sort of looking forward to getting to snoop through all your things. I am a spy after all." She winked at him, craning her head up to kiss his lips lightly.

 

Clint grinned as Natasha kissed his chest, sighing with contentment as she cuddled up against him more. He loved laying with her in his arms and he missed it; he was more than pleased that she was finally nearby again and he finally got the chance to see the redhead again. He laughed at her comment, looking back down at her.

"Snoop? Well I hate to disappoint but there's hardly much to look through. Nothing of import but feel free." he responded, sitting up a little more and pecking her lips sweetly over and over. "I guess we should get it done. Or at least get the bed set up." He winked at her before he reached around her, leaning to pick up his strewn briefs and pants.

Natasha climbed off his lap and followed suit, redressing herself. The archer tugged on his bottoms, fastening them and picking up his empty beer bottle from the floor. "You want another?" he asked, nodding to his partners bottle beside the sofa.

Natasha pulled her panties and jeans back on, opting for Clint's navy shirt which was draped over the side of the couch as opposed to her own top that had been flung across the room. She nodded her head at him when he asked if she wanted another beer, grinning as she twisted the sleeves of his shirt up turning his tee into a loose fit quasi-tank top.

The pair of assassins were able to unpack all of the archer's belongings in a few hours, he hadn't been kidding when he said he didn't have many possessions weighing him down. The very few sentimental items he had that weren't weapons or various archery tools provoked a few stories from her partner, and Natasha relished every new tidbit he told her about himself. He hadn't exactly had the most rosy upbringing either, and it was nice to know he wouldn't spook easily if she ever got up the nerve to give him more details about her dark past.

Natasha watched as Clint assembled the extensive wall rack he had for his bows, sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed swirling the last of her beer in the bottle. She had found one of his first arm guards from when he had learned to shoot in the circus as a boy, it was snug but it fit her forearm and he smiled at her warmly when she showed him.

Clint and Natasha spent the next few hours working on unpacking what few belongings he had. They sat on the floor of his bedroom together, his mattress still propped against the wall beside them as they riffled through one of the boxes. He told her stories of his travels and the days he spent as part of the circus. Of course she found it amusing at first, teasing him a little and asking what his act was. He found it surprisingly easy to open up to his partner, despite the fact that she didn't always let him know about her. He told her about his brother, Bernard whom had runaway with him and his days he spent training with the Swordman who later left him for dead while his brother took Clint's place as the Swordsmans newest companion. Natasha listened to every story he was willing to tell her, and he enjoyed seeing that she seemed genuinely interested in his life.

They had finished unpacking for the most part and finally laid down the mattress on the simple platform bed. The archer was neatly organizing his arrows while Natasha sat watching him on his bed. He turned around, smiling at how cute she looked in his shirt. She lifted her hand, turning her small wrist back and forth and showing him that she had managed to work her hand into his very first arm guard. He grinned, laughing a little and stepped closer to the bed. He grabbed hold over her fingers, lacing them with his and examined her arm, "Is this you hinting at wanting to replace me?" he joked, pulling her hand up and kissing her knuckles. "You know... I could teach you how to shoot someday."

Natasha scoffed at her partner, "I could never replace you, Barton. I don't have the energy to be a smartass that much of the time." She winked at him, her expression softening when he lightly kissed her hand and suggested shooting lessons. She got up off the bed and went to the wall rack, taking down one of his basic recurve bows. A devilish smile curved her full lips and she plucked an arrow from one of the quivers standing up against the wall.

"Actually, I know how to shoot." She told him, lining up her shot at the weighted standing torso-shaped heavy bag Clint had across the room that she had noticed earlier already had a few arrow holes in it. It was a bit of a struggle for her to get a full draw on his bow without adjusting the tension on it, but she let fly and the bolt sank deep into the solar plexus of the dense latex molded figure. The redhead looked back at him and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I'm no where near your skill level of course. I'm sure you could give me a lot of pointers." She grinned at her partner's shocked and pleased expression.

Clint laughed and pretended to be completely offended by her comment, "Smartass?! When am I ever a Smartass, Romanov?" he shook his head, furrowing his brow when Natasha stood up suddenly from the bed. He dropped his hold on her hand and watched as she went over to his recently organized wall of archery equipment.

His partner turned back to look at him, a sly grin spread across her pretty face as she picked up on of his bows and a single arrow. He was completely taken aback by what happened next, the redhead hooked the arrow onto the bowstring and turned her attention to the human shaped target on the opposite side of his room. She pulled back and to his amazement she actually hit it and it was a decent shot if he did say so himself. He was oddly turned on by her ability; he already had an unhealthy obsession with archery and now seeing his sexy redheaded partner, weilding his favorite toy...

"Damn, Red. I think I have every reason to be angry that you didn't tell me of your little hobby." he commented with a pleased smile smacked across his face. Clint laughed, still some what in shock, "Don't beat yourself up. It's likely that you'll never get to my skill level."

He pulled himself up from his bed, standing and wandering over to her side. He took another arrow from the quiver she did and handed it to her, "I will however give you some pointers. The key is to aim higher than your target, you have to account for distance and the arrows always going to arch downward because the whole gravity thing." Clint motioned for her to line herself up like she had before and he stepped tight into her space, his breath against her ear as he spoke. "Inhale as you draw back." he explained, waiting as she did so, pulling her arm back.

"Relax your shoulder and drop your elbow a little more." he prompted her, tapping her arm gently with his calloused fingertips. Natasha pulled her arm in closer to her body and dropped her elbow as he told her so. "Exhale as you release." She fired once more, hitting the target in what would be its eye socket if it existed. Clint grinned at her when she turned her head to face him as she dropped the bow.

Natasha lined up for the next shot, about to make a sarcastic remark in response to Clint's words about being familiar with the concept of gravity, but then she was entirely distracted by the archer's closeness and his warm breath on her ear. He gently adjusted her stance, his light touches and low voice sending thrills through her body. He instructed her how to hold herself for a more precise shot and her arrow hit with a satisfying thunk right in the target's left eye.

Natasha leaned Clint's bow against the wall and turned into his body, warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach at the way her partner was looking at her. "Thanks for the tips... Do you charge a fee for private lessons?" She asked, smiling seductively at him. Her hands trailed up his muscled chest to wrap around his neck. She stood on her toes to kiss him fervently, tugging his lower lip between her teeth and pressing herself against him.

Clint's arms wrapped around her narrow waist, gripping her tightly. Natasha hummed as one of his hands wandered to the small of her back and the other cupped her bottom squeezing her firmly. She pulled back from his lips, tossing her head to the side indicating his bed. "I already helped you unpack, I suppose I could help you break in your new mattress before I go." She winked at him.

Natasha set down his bow that she had bored and stepped close into his space. He had been eyeing her and clearly she knew he was turned on by seeing her ability. Likely giving her an approving and excited look, similar to the one she had given him after he sang to her and she discovered he played guitar.

"Well for you, Red... There's a very particular fee..." he murmured, smiling slyly and chuckling as she pulled him in for a ravenous kiss. He growled in his throat, raising his eyebrow as Natasha tugged at his lower lip with her teeth. The archer wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands sliding down her back to grip her firm rear.

Natasha nodded her head to his neatly made bed and he grinned mischievously, knowing full well that wouldn't last. He leaned in, kissing her deeply, "I like the way you think..." he mumbled against her lips, his breathing already becoming uneven as they kissed once more. He moved his hand further down, hooking it around her thigh and coaxing her to jump into his arms.

Clint's hands gripped both her thighs as they kissed fervently and he carried her over to his bed. Her back hit the mattress and he heard her gasp as he immediately began working off her clothes, tugging his shirt she still wore over her head then unfastening her skinny jeans once again. He leaned over her, settling between her legs and kissing and biting at the warm flesh of her neck and chest.

Natasha followed her partner's prompting, hopping up into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist, purring against his lips as they kissed enthusiastically. Clint all but tossed her on his bed, thrills coursing through her as he yanked her clothing off piece by piece. His silver gaze pinned her to the bed and she lay open and panting for him as he stripped down and covered her body with his.

"Your fee is non-negotiable I assume." Natasha quipped as she twisted her fingers into his sandy hair and slid her legs up his waist. "I don't like having red in my ledger... I always pay my debts in full." She practically growled as she flipped their bodies, grinding her already wet center against his growing erection. She smiled devilishly down at the archer, leaning into his touch as his strong hands swept up her sides to cup and fondle her full breasts.

Natasha leaned in and made a searing trail of biting kisses down Clint's throat and chest, stopping to run her tongue over every dip and ridge of his defined abs. She nipped at her partner's hip bone, laving her tongue over the mark to soothe it. Her blue eyes slid back up his frame and she felt herself get wetter from the raw need in his expression as she let her lips wander teasingly close to his twitching erection. "Tell me your price Cupid, I'll gladly pay it." She purred, raising her head and licking her full red lips.

 

Clint climbed off her and stripped himself down before returning to Natasha and laying atop her once more. He smirked at her statements as she wrapped her legs around his waist again. "Depends on the negotiation... But not usually." he leaned down in attempts to capture her lips in a kiss but she spoke again and quickly rotated their bodies.

The archer fell to the mattress, letting out an airy chuckle. "If you can't afford it now... Maybe we could work out a payment plan. I like to keep my students happy too, Miss Romanov." he moaned as she ground herself against his growing bulge, making him harder and he trailed his hands slowly along her sides, cupping and fondling her breasts.

Natasha leaned into him more, and his mouth parted in a silent moan, anticipated another heated kiss. Instead she slid down his body and trailing kisses over his hard muscled frame, her tongue running along the outline of his abs. He watched her as she got closer to his throbbing length, her breath hot and unsteady against his erection as she spoke.

"Fuck... If you want another lesson, I won't tolerate the teasing." he joked, his chest rising and falling, waiting in anticipation for her to take him in her mouth already. Natasha waited for a short moment, pretending as though she hadn't heard him, "Suck me hard baby... Please... God I want you so bad." he panted, speaking through clenched teeth as he gripped at the bed.

Clint's fevered words sent jolts of pleasure straight between Natasha's legs, she loved knowing how crazy she was making him. The redhead took his hard length in her hand and languidly licked him like a popsicle, swirling her wet pink tongue around his tip and lapping up his precum.

She craned over him and took his full length in her mouth, feeling him throb in her throat as she began bobbing her head up and down. The marksman tensed and twitched beneath her, his exclamations making her ache with need as she pleasured him. Natasha sucked him hard just like he asked, letting her nails dig into the toned muscles of his thighs.

Natasha felt his fingers sweep into her hair and she glanced up at him when he tugged her scarlet locks gently to get her attention. He insisted that she pay her fee by coming on him, and his demand turned her on more than she ever would have thought possible. She pulled off his length with a wet popping sound, licking her lips and grinning. She was only too happy to oblige him.

The redhead sidled up to him on the bed on her hands and knees, silently inviting him to take his place behind her with a toss of her head and a playful smirk. Clint rolled up onto his knees and gripped her round ass firmly, rubbing his straining erection against her wet entrance before finally plunging inside her. "Oh fuck... Take me hard, baby..." Natasha mewled, pushing back against him to drive his length more deeply inside her.

A shaky broken breath escaped Clint's lips as Natasha licked up his length before taking him fully in her mouth. "Ahh fuck babe... Yes... Just like that." he murmured as she sucked him hard like he'd requested just moments ago. He felt himself getting close as he tongue pressed against his throbbing erection.

The archer reached down, taking a fistful of his lovers red curls. He tugged her up, his words barely managing to escape his lips as he requested that she repay him by coming on him. Natasha pulled off his length and smiled, all too happy to give into his most recent demands. She moved beside him and nodded her head behind her, wiggling her ass a little in a silent request of her own.

Clint maneuvered himself behind her, climbing to his knees and gently gripping her rear, running his hand along her perfect curves as he teased her with his length. He joined their bodies, thrusting hard into her backside, making them both moan and cry out for each other. He moved inside her more, her words encouraging him and exciting him more as he took her hard from behind.

The marksman dragged his fingers per her sides, one hand gripping her hip hard and guiding her back against him in time with each of his relentless thrusts. His other hand trailed down her side and the smooth panel of her stomach, his fingers brushing against her bud of nerves just above her entrance. The combined sensation making her buck back and scream for him as her slick core clenched around him erratically. "Ahh... Come for me, Tasha..." he encouraged, feeling the pleasure rise in the pit of his stomach. 

Her name fell from his lips as Natasha raised up, her fingers carding through his sandy hair and gripping him for dear life as they fell over the edge together. He came deep inside her core, panting brokenly and pressing his hips into her until he was utterly spent and she went slack against his frame.

Clint's relentless thrusts and the way his callused fingers were tantalizing her clit drove Natasha past the ability to control herself, crying out on every exhalation in pleasure as her body flooded with delicious sensations. She pushed up off her hands and braced herself against the archer's hard frame, gripping his hip behind her and twisting her fingers into his sandy hair behind her head. He slammed into her in a violently staccato rhythm and she came hard around his throbbing shaft, milking him dry as he followed her over the edge.

He prolonged their pleasure as much as possible, rocking his hips up into her until he was totally spent, sighing roughly against her pale throat as he slipped out of her body and cradled her against his larger frame, sitting back on his heels and holding her tightly. Natasha felt like her bones had all turned to jelly and it was all she could do to stay upright, her head lolling back on his broad shoulder.

"You do realize I'm never going to be able to think straight when I'm holding a bow and arrow again, right? Maybe it's not such a good idea for me to take lessons from you Cupid, since the payment is all I'll remember of them." The redhead winked at her partner, her chest rising and falling erratically as she tried to steady her breathing. Natasha freed herself from his grip and for the first time she pulled him down to cuddle with her without any prompting or reservation.

Clint settled beside her on the mattress, nudging one of his legs between hers and wrapping his strong arm around her delicate frame possessively. Natasha melted into his warmth, knowing that this was as close to heaven as she was ever going to get.

Natasha cried out to him and he felt her unravel in front of him, coming hard around his throbbing shaft, her most feminine muscles clamping around him erratically. He came deep inside her with a shuddering breath, thrusting up into her until he was completely spent and desperately attempting to catch his breath.

Clint laughed at her statement as he settled back onto his heels, holding her against him and kissing her shoulder and back sweetly. "Huh, yea that could be a problem. It's a good thing you're not reliant on a bow." he responded, smiling as Natasha tugged him down with her, coaxing him to cuddle with her. The archer was surprised, but pleased to see her silently requesting his warmth and affection.

He snuggled up beside her, sighing with contentment as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Though if our lessons continued, maybe 'payments' will only be made after you've shown me you've improved." Clint commented, kissing her hair and closing his eyes as they rested together. He wasn't tired, so much as relaxed, for reasons he couldn't quite explain he was comforted by her presence.

Natasha's breath hitched in a small chuckle at his smart-alec comment, but her mind was more focused on what he'd said before that. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully and she tipped her head up to gaze at his relaxed face. His eyes cracked open to meet her gaze and she pursed her lips as she tried to form what she was feeling into words.

"But I am..." She said softly, cupping his face and running her thumb over his cheek. "I am reliant on a bow. Yours. I'd be lost if I didn't have you, Clint." Her blue eyes flickered between his silver ones as she spoke. It was so difficult for her to express how she felt, but it damn it felt good to confide in him. Natasha knew she was a lost cause now, come hell or high water she wanted to be with this man. Her head knew it was ridiculous, childish even, but she didn't care. She would keep her love for him safe deep inside her, but she knew that he knew he was a part of her now.

 

Clint opened his eyes again when he felt Natasha stirring. He met her bright blue gaze, smiling warmly at her and when she spoke he furrowed his brow. At first he didn't know what she meant exactly, when she said she was reliant on one. But then it became clear, him.

He turned his head enough to kiss the palm of her hand, grinning back at her. The archer rested his hand over hers, leaning in and kissing her with everything that he could and feeling his emotions get the better of him when she returned it. It was the first time he really felt his love for her being returned. "I love you, Red. And me and my bow will be there to protect you always." he responded finally when they broke apart.

To the outside observer it was business as usual between the two SHIELD agents for the next few months, Natasha working steadily to rebuild the credibility she had earned with the Security Council that had been shaken even though it had been more than proven by her partner that she was taken against her will, not to mention she and Clint being partners had Fury's full backing again thanks to Agent Coulson.

But beneath the surface, the archer and the spy were so much more than partners. They spent every spare moment they had holed up in Clint's New York apartment, and even when they had to go several days or weeks without contact working separately, they had the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened deep down they belonged to each other.

It was a chilly fall day in New York, Natasha had finished up with her assignment in Tokyo going undercover as a model to gain access to several high class functions and 'acquire' some valuable intel from a few technology moguls there. The redhead sat curled up on the couch with a book, wearing a pair of black yoga pants and one of Clint's charcoal gray sweaters. She had arrived late last night and was passing time until her partner came home from another job in Seattle. 

He was supposed to be back sometime this evening, and she was anxious to see him not only because it had been a couple weeks for them but he had sounded run down the last time they talked two nights ago. The redhead had a suspicion that her partner was getting sick and was trying to downplay it. But after all the complaining he'd done about having to spend hours on rooftops out in the cold and rain she couldn't imagine that it was anything else.

 

Clint and Natasha had spent a majority of their time together, to the point that it was actually harder for them to part ways and go on separate missions. But no one at SHIELD knew or ever would know what was happening between the pair of agents the past few months. They said their goodbyes and she headed off to Tokyo while he went to follow up on a lead into another possible drug cartel. He spent many nights hidden deep in the shadows of rooftops, pouring down rain at least two thirds of the time he was outdoors as he watched and waited, hoping this wasn't a bust.

Natasha and he spoke a few times, keeping their contact to a minimum as usual to protect one another but she kept asking him why he sounded off. He brushed it off, trying to ignore the urge to cough as he spoke to her. He was sick and completely drained physically from this assignment, wanting nothing more than to be back in his apartment with his lover.

The archer carried his small duffle up the steps, groggily struggling with his keys until Natasha opened the door eagerly greeting him with a smile. He grinned back at her lazily, "Hey Red." he greeted her, hugging her tight against him despite his aching muscles as he dropped his stuff just inside the doorway. "I'd kiss you but I think you'd hate me for it later."

Clint coughed, his whole body shaking as he turned away from her. He held her fingers in his, pulling her with him back to the couch after kicking the door closed and locking it, checking the handle on instinct. "How was Tokyo?" he asked as he plopped down on the couch, his voice nasely and he coughed again. He laughed, shaking his head at the look Natasha was giving him, "I'm fine." he mumbled, brushing off his condition again.

The marksman hated being sick, feeling like he couldn't control his body. It gave him a weakness, made him off his game and worn out.

Natasha heard the metallic clicking of the lock being fumbled with and she set her book down, unfolding her legs and going to open the door. She smiled at her lover, slipping into his arms the second he came in the door and pressing her forehead up into his neck as he squeezed her tightly with one arm, dropping his duffle unceremoniously on the floor with the other. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed with concern as she felt how warm his skin was against her face despite the fall chill still clinging to his clothing against the rest of her.

She looked at him more closely as he tugged her by the hand back to his couch, noting the shadows under his eyes and the stiff way he moved as if everything ached. He looked awful, and his voice was raw when he asked how her assignment had gone. The redhead refused to acknowledge his question to her, just sat staring at him, berating him with a look for neglecting his health and making light of his sickness.

He laughed at her glower, and it was hard for her to stay angry with him. Natasha hardly ever got sick thanks to the 'gifts' bestowed on her in the Red Room, but she knew the signs. The redhead leaned up on her knees on the couch and gently pressed the back of her pale hand to Clint's forehead, then his cheek, her blue eyes appraising his color and the bruises of fatigue under his clear silver eyes that were tracking her every movement.

"You have a fever." She said, the corner of her full pout tugging up at the pained look he gave her, immediately knowing what he was going to say. "Don't argue with me, Cupid. Denying that you're sick won't make it go away." She chided him affectionately then leaned in close so her lips were just barely brushing his as she spoke. "But I will. And don't worry, you can't make me sick with a cold." She reassured him, kissing him softly and quelling the token resistance he was still trying to put up by deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

"Go and get a hot shower, I'm going down to the drugstore on the next block to get you some medicine. I won't be long." She murmured, tipping her head up to kiss his fevered brow. The spy got up off the couch and tugged her shoes on, tying back her curtain of fiery curls in a low ponytail and waving at her partner after pulling on her coat then slipping out the door.

Clint stared back at Natasha, rolling his eyes a little when she reached up to press the back of her hand to his skin. He opened his mouth ready to argue and tell her again that he was completely fine. He knew he was sick but he wouldn't admit it for a second, blaming it on exhaustion and nothing more.

Natasha's lips brushed against his as she leaned into him, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. He tried to fight her a little but it was a faint attempt; she deepened their kiss, making him groan quietly at the contact. He smiled at her when she broke away from him, kissing his warm forehead.

The archer shook his head at his lover as she stood up to put her shoes on, "Tasha..." he half whined and half laughed at her for insisting on taking care of him. Natasha waved at him and he returned it lazily, knowing full well it wasn't worth it to fight her. He grunted, leaning his head back and sighing before bending over to take off his boots then forcing himself up from the sofa.

Clint wandered down the hall, flicking the lights on as he went and making his way into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and slowly shed his clothing layer by layer, looking over his tired face in the mirror above the sink and confirming that he did in fact look like complete shit. He climbed into the shower, relaxing his body as the warm water flowed over his achy muscles. He stood in the stream of steamy water for a few long minutes before finally scrubbing down his entire body and shampooing his hair.

Natasha purchased medicine from the kind elderly Japanese woman that ran the nearby drugstore, conversing with her fluently in her own language, idly commenting that she'd recently been in Tokyo doing some 'sight-seeing.' The redhead also stopped at the corner market near Clint's apartment and put together a quick basket of ingredients to make chicken noodle soup, knowing the archer didn't have much besides beer and frozen dinners in his fridge.

The redhead let herself back into the apartment, hearing the water still running in the bathroom and busying herself starting the soup. The spy wasn't a five-star chef by any means, but she could make simple recipes and get a good result. Natasha did not particularly enjoy cooking, but she found herself smiling and humming absently to herself as she cooked the chicken and cut up the vegetables, pleased that she could do something to help her lover feel better.

After awhile Clint wandered out to the kitchen in a sleeveless gray shirt and black sweat pants, rubbing a towel over his damp sandy hair as he investigated what she was doing. Natasha looked up at him and nodded at the cup of water and pills she had set out for him on the counter, her blue eyes watching him expectantly until he finally chuckled and took the medicine.

She grinned and returned to her work. "You should feel very honored, I don't cook for just anyone." Natasha quipped as Clint walked around the counter to stand in her space and bent to kiss her neck. She straightened and kissed his lips sweetly. "Go and rest while I finish this up." She gently cupped his cheek, shooing him out of his small kitchen.

Clint finished up his shower, stepping out in his towel and rummaging through his dresser until he found a pair of sweats, pulling on some clean clothes. He wandered back out, hearing Natasha in the kitchen as he towel dried his hair. He scoped out what she was doing, cooking for him and his face grew suspicious and curious all at once, it was odd to see her in the kitchen, a strange setting compared to her normal niche. The archer found he liked it though, in a strange way... It was like they were really a couple and this was her place too.

He wrapped the damp towel around his neck, glancing on the counter to see medicine laying out for him already. Natasha watched him, arms crossed and waiting for him to take the pills; he chuckled, popping them in his mouth and downing the glass of water. Clint stepped into her space, hugging her waist and kissing her pale throat when she returned her attention to her cooking. "Should I?" he asked against her skin. The redhead turned her head, pulling his head up and kissing him affectionately, "You know I kinda like when you tell me what to do."

He smiled, turning his head away from her and coughing into his forearm before speaking again. She raised her brow at him and he waved her off, knowing she was going to force him out if she had to. Clint left, tossing his towel in the hamper as he passed the laundry room, which was little more than a tiny nook big enough for a washer and dryer. He retreated to his room again, picking up some of his arrows and fidgeting with them before getting bored. The marksman picked up one of Natasha's books lying on the nightstand beside his bed, scanning it over and sighing. It was weird and uncomfortable for him to have nothing he was suppose to be doing.

Natasha entered his room, carrying a bowl of soup for him, "Read me a story." he whined like a little kidding, joking with her and tossing the book back on the nightstand. "You don't have to do all this, Red. Really I'm not~" he coughed, clearing his throat, "I'm not that bad. I'll live."

Natasha entered Clint's bedroom with two steaming bowls, figuring she might as well enjoy the fruit of her labor and knowing the archer wouldn't want to eat alone anyway. She raised a scarlet brow at his pitiful attempt at declaring he was fine, not even able to finish his sentence without coughing.

"I thought you said you liked it when I told you what to do. So sit with me and eat." The redhead teased, sitting cross-legged on his bed and handing him his bowl when he joined her. She blew the steam curling off her spoonful of soup and sampled her work, smiling at the savory flavor. One of her better cooking attempts, she thought. The pair of master assassins sat eating and talking like a regular couple might, only their version of chatting about what happened at the office was a little more... Exciting than most.

They finished their soup and Natasha had to give her partner a withering look when he tried to get up and put his dishes away, taking his bowl and hers back to the kitchen. He followed her out of the bedroom like a lost puppy, and she shook her head at his vain attempt to act alert and well despite how drained he looked and the way he kept clearing his throat to keep from coughing.

"You're hopeless..." She murmured affectionately, standing up on her toes to kiss his cheek then taking his hand and guiding him to the couch. Natasha sat at one end and smiled when the archer laid down and pillowed his head on her lap, shifting and grunting in his chest till he was comfortable. She started carding her fingernails through his sandy hair in soft repetitious motions.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long while, and Natasha could tell the archer was fighting the urge to doze off. "Shh, it's all right... Rest my love." She soothed in Russian, the corner of her mouth tugging up as his breathing deepened and his face relaxed as sleep claimed him. It was a strange and wonderful thing to consider that this man sleeping peacefully in her lap had only come into her life because he had been ordered to kill her. Natasha had never loved so deeply or wanted so strongly to protect someone before in her life. She wanted everything with him- to fight beside him when he was strong, to care for him when he was sick, to trade her life for his if need be. 

It was enough to make her blue eyes moist and she closed her lashes to keep her tears at bay, taking a deep breath and smiling softly to herself as she continued to run her fingers through her partner's hair as he slept. She picked up her book and quietly read, relishing the weight of him against her and every peaceful moment that passed.

Clint accepted his soup, enjoying the warmth flowing down his raw throat. He had to admit that Natasha knew her way around the kitchen, he complimented her on her simple dish and they sat for awhile enjoying each others company and discussing work.

He finished his meal and started to stand but Natasha stole his bowl from him, making her way to the kitchen and he followed. He wasn't really sure what to do or how to be sick and he laughed at her comment to him. He did his best to stay awake and interact with her but everything seemed distant, even when he felt her lips press to his tenderly again, but nonetheless he did his darnedest to return it.

The archer climbed onto the sofa and rested his head in her lap as he lay down. He grunted and rolled over a few times, trying to get himself comfortable as he settled against her. Finally he sighed and she ran her fingers through his hair, making his entire body go slack as he fought a losing battle with wakefulness. Her touch soothed him and it was nice having someone there to take care of him in such a way, comforting to know that when he'd wake she'd still be there. "I'll have to thank you somehow, nurse Red.." he murmured, his voice quiet, he chuckled a little and closed his eyes, succumbing to his exhaustion.

Clint woke a few hours later but it felt to him like only moments. It'd been awhile since he'd slept that good, maybe it was the medication or Natasha combing her fingers through his hair or both. He stretched and felt that she in fact was still holding his head up; he blinked up at her, seeing her with her arm tucked under head, they'd shifted enough that she was slumped against the arm of the sofa. "Babe." he whispered, sitting up a little and reaching to cup her cheek, "Hey. Let's go to bed. We'll both regret staying out here later." he finished when she stirred, blinking down at him and he smiled up at her, both of them taking awhile to gather themselves enough to stand.

Natasha wasn't sure when she dozed off, but it was a lovely feeling to be woken up by Clint's gentle touch and voice. She grinned at him and nodded drowsily, stretching when he sat up from her lap. The redhead checked the time and padded into the kitchen to get the archer another dose of medicine, bringing it back with another glass of water. She handed it to him and waited for him to swallow the pills down, then finished off the rest of the water in the glass when he handed it back to her.

They retreated to his bedroom and Natasha tugged her pants off, wearing nothing but her black panties and one of Clint's gray standard issue SHIELD t-shirts to bed. The archer stripped down to his briefs and slipped under his sheets. She could see in his face that the rest and medicine had done him some good, but he was still sick and she felt his forehead again when she joined him in bed.

"It feels like your fever's broken." She murmured, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. "But you still need to take it easy." The redhead smiled, leaning on her elbow and propping her head on her hand, watching as he relaxed back into the mattress beside her. "How do you feel?" She asked, resting her free hand on his bare chest.

Clint didn't fight Natasha at all when she came back, offering him a second dose of pills to help him get better faster. He took them without a word, downing the water and half rolling his eyes at her as he handed the cup back to her.

They made their way into his bedroom, both stripping down to get more comfortable and climbing under the covers. He relaxed fully against the mattress as the redhead felt his forehead, he nodded in response to her mention of his fever. "That's good. See I told you I wasn't that bad." he replied, he still felt the urge to cough but he certainly felt much more human than when he'd arrived home.

The archer leaned in and kissed his lover lightly, "Much better." he answered against her plump red lips. He deepened their kiss, cupping her cheek and tugging her towards him more. "Thanks to you." he grinned over at her through his half opened eyes.

Natasha smiled against her lover's lips, moaning softly in her throat when he deepened their kiss. The voice of reason nagged at her that she should let her partner get more rest, but it had been two weeks since they'd seen each other and just the feel of his hands tugging her closer and his tongue sliding against hers was enough to make her heart race and her center ache with want for him.

"I'm glad I could help you feel better." She murmured. The redhead tried to pull away, her breathing hitching as Clint's callused fingers glided up her bare thigh and over the swell of her rear, squeezing her firmly as his other hand tangled into her curls to drag her mouth down to meet his again. "Clint, you need to rest..." She admonished him, but only put up token resistance as he pulled her atop him. She could feel his arousal growing against her abdomen and just imagining him inside her was enough to make her wet with anticipation. "Clint..." She moaned his name, barely hanging on to the thought that they should save this for when he felt completely better.

 

Natasha tried to pull back from him but he wasn't going to allow that; he may be sick but not enough for him to not want her. Clint's hand slid slowly up her warm bare thigh, gripping her rear while his other hand entangled in her soft red curls. He tugged her to him, pulling her in for a kiss, he paused as she spoke, telling him he needed his rest. "There's plenty of time for that... I'm not tired anyhow, that nap reenergized me." he smirked, making her lay on top of him.

He was growing with want for her already and her whispering his name against his skin and her body pressing down on his as their lips clashed once more only increased that. He growled in his throat as his lover ground her center against his bulge. The archers hands slid beneath the shirt she borrowed from him, slowly he pushed the fabric up and tugged it over her head, leaning in to trace her cleavage with his tongue. Her fingers gripped his hair as he nipped at her fullness, reaching behind her back to rid her of the troublesome garment.

The last of Natasha's resolve burned away as he kissed her ravenously, she arched against him and little thrills coursed down her spine as he rid her of his t-shirt and gave his attention to her breasts. She tangled her fingers in his sandy hair and he unclasped her bra, shedding the last barrier between their skin and she purred as their heated flesh pressed together.

The redhead rubbed herself against Clint's throbbing erection, gasping at the contact and biting her lip as he gripped her hips and ground their hips together with more force. They weren't even connected yet and already Natasha could feel her pleasure pooling deep in her belly. "God Clint, I want you inside me..." She mewled. The archer sat up and she knelt straddling his lap, kissing him wildly as he tugged her panties aside and teased her wet center, dipping a knobby finger into her core and rubbing her tingling clit with his thumb.

"Oh fuck... Yes baby... Ahh..." Natasha panted against his lips, riding his hand and reaching down to claw at the hem of his dark briefs. "More." She practically growled, wanting him to fill her up completely and come undone with her.

Clint gripped Natasha's hips, forcing her harder against him and making him groan with pleasure at the sensation of her grinding against his erection. He could see the raw lust in her eyes, black with desire as he sat up, tugging aside her panties and teasing her bud of nerves at the top of her entrance. He stroked her walls, feeling her flutter around his finger as he brought her closer and closer to the brink.

Her nails scratched at his hips as she tried desperately to remove his briefs. He pulled his hand from her dripping center, reaching for his last remaining bit of clothes and pulling them down over his hips. She sat up enough to allow him to quickly kick off the piece and before his attention could even refocus to his lover, her hands were on him, gripping his shaft and stroking him until he was hard a steel for her.

The archers head lolled back at the contact, both agents gasped with pleasure when she finally joined their bodies, giving into what they both so clearly wanted. She rode him hard and fast, making him moan and his hold on her tightening, his fingers digging into her hard enough to bruise.

Clint finally shed his last bit of clothing and Natasha all but pounced on him, her body aching for the contact she had been deprived of for weeks. She was hopelessly addicted to her partner, knowing full well that she could never have enough of him to be satisfied but determined to try anyway.

Natasha sank down on his throbbing length, gasping as he stretched and filled her giving her exactly what she needed. Her nails bit into his shoulders as he gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, each marking the other as their own. "You feel so good Clint..." The redhead moaned, swiveling and bucking her hips, her full breasts bouncing as she rode him hard and fast. Her movements sped and grew erratic as she neared the brink, falling over the edge with a breathy moan. She felt her orgasm in every corner of her body, kissing her lover and swallowing his moans as he came deep inside her.

She slowed her movements and finally stopped, sighing as she relaxed against him in the wake of their shared climax. Natasha kissed Clint's brow and climbed off his lap, letting him pull her into his arms as he reclined back on the mattress. 

Clint groaned with pleasure, his breath coming in quick deep gasps as she moved above him. He felt her clamp around him, clenching and milking him dry as they went over the edge together. He had missed her, in every way possible and quite frankly it sucked more and more each time they parted; he was growing reliant on her company, needing and wanting her there every moment possible.

She rode out their shared climax and he pulled her down with him against the mattress. He kissed her cheek then lips, cupping her face in his hands. They rested together in a sweaty heap, trying to catch their breath and come down from their high. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes and tugging his lover against his chest. The archer traced random shapes over the soft porcelain skin of her arm, resting over his muscular frame. His breathing evened out and within minutes he was in a deep sound sleep.

 

Natasha hummed contentedly as she melted into Clint's embrace, enjoying the feeling of being flush up against her lover. In minutes the archer drifted off to sleep, and her full lips curled up as she felt him go slack against her. She gingerly tipped her head up, gazing at his slumbering face adoringly. 

It still blew the redhead away that this was her life, that this man loving her and she loving him was real. She didn't let it show but it had worried her deeply knowing that Clint was sick while he was working, and tending to him now and knowing that because of her he felt a little better at least in spirit if not in body made her feel like gold. She gingerly leaned in and placed a feather light kiss on his lips, then settled down against him again and soon fell asleep herself.

Clint woke early the next morning, groaning and stretching himself awake. He felt a thousand times better than he did last night, perhaps the sleep had done him some good and although he wasn't a hundred percent it was certainly an improvement. He felt Natasha stir by his side and cocked his head to look at her, wrapped in the covers and softly hugging her pillow. It was strange to wake up to the woman he loved but he liked it and he hoped that they could have more of these mornings.

He rolled up behind his lover and wrapped his strong arm around her small frame. He kissed her bare shoulder and nuzzled into her neck, his lips brushing against her skin. "Mornin'." he greeted her when she rested her hand on his laying on her abdomen. She rolled over and scooted up against him, kissing him in return and he smiled at her. "Thanks for taking care of me." he murmured sleepily. Last night wasn't the first time she'd had to take care of him, there were multiple times she'd been there to fix him up, clean his wounds and tend to him when he was too stubborn to do it himself.

Natasha woke when she felt her partner stir and slip his arm around her, smiling as his lips pressed against her neck and turning in his embrace to kiss him sweetly. "Always." She whispered, that one small word speaking volumes. Clint was her best friend, her lover, the better part of herself. She would always be there for him, give anything to keep safe and well.

The redhead carded her fingers through the archer's sandy hair, smiling warmly at him and tugging his face down to hers again, kissing him till they were both breathless. She untangled her limbs from the mess of blankets she had wrapped herself up in and rolled up on top of her lover, sighing as his hands glided down her sides and over her hips to grip her bottom, adding pressure as she rocked her hips against his.

Natasha was pleased that the color had returned to Clint's face, his voice was still a bit rough but he looked like a new man after some medicine and a full night of sleep. "You certainly seem to be feeling better." She winked at him, her whole body coming alive from his heat and touch.

The pair of agents kissed ravenously, breaking apart to catch their breath again. Natasha rolled atop Clint, gently rocking her hips into his and making his arousal return. He cupped her bottom and pressed her weight down against him more as they moved together, making him groan at the contact.

Quickly the archer flipped her beneath him, making her gasp a little. He smirked down at her, "Oh I'm feeling much, much better..." he responded breathlessly, pressing her to the mattress as he kissed her enthusiastically. He worked his was down her neck and to her chest, trailing a mix of kisses and rough nips down her entire body.

He bit hard onto her hip, lavving his tongue over the mark and smirking up at her, not at all sorry for being rough. Softly the archer brushed his lips along her inner thigh and instantly Natasha spread her legs further apart for him. He could hear her erratic breathing above him and she gripped onto his sandy locks as he delved his tongue into her slick heat, tasting her hungrily.

Natasha jolted when Clint kissed and bit her hard, her need flaring as the little edge of pain served to intensify her pleasure. He ventured lower and she opened her legs wider to grant him better access to her slick center, her breathing coming in shallow gasps as he finally put his mouth where she wanted it.

Her fingers twisted into his hair as he ate her out, his dexterous tongue tantalizing her clit and delving deep inside her, coaxing a string of Russian profanities from her lips as he brought her to the brink of her pleasure almost faster than she could handle. Her whole body trembled and he had to press his arm across her abdomen to hold her down as her hips bucked up to his face in her ecstasy. She cried his name as she came, her back arching off the mattress and her toes curling in the sheets.

Clint ate out Natasha, lapping up her juices and bringing her closer and closer to the brink with his tongue. She bucked up against his face and he quickly braced his forearm upon her abdomen, forcing her down on the mattress in attempts to keep her still. She cried out to him, coming undone from his ministrations and he climbed back up her body, running his tongue over the corner of his mouth, cleaning her off his lips. He grinned at the redhead, leaning over her and sealing their lips in a kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his lips.

He deepened their kiss as he settled quickly between her legs, his erection brushing against her slick center and teasing her clit. The marksman pulled back from her, catching her gaze and watching her heated expression distort with pleasure as he forced himself inside her. He slammed his hips against hers, making him moan as he moved deep inside her. She wrapped her legs higher around his waist, her head lolling back against the pillow and her nails biting into Clint's heated flesh, grasping desperately at his muscled arms as he thrust against her.

"Ahh... Tasha..." he murmured her name, feeling himself getting close to the edge. He panted against the crook of her neck, quickening his pace and taking her hard as his pleasure rose and he came deep inside her with a ragged cry.

Natasha bit her lower lip as Clint climbed up her body, purring in her throat as she tasted herself on him. He slammed into her and she automatically hooked her legs high around his torso, clinging to his chiseled arms as he thrust into her hard and deep. He pressed his head into her neck and she brought one hand up to grip his hair, holding him close as they tipped over the edge together.

"Oh god Clint... Clint!" Natasha cried his name over and over as her climax swept over her, her vision blurring and her whole body quivering from the intensity of it. She felt him explode inside her and it was pure bliss being so deeply connected with him. The redhead was suddenly struck by the thought that if she were to die now it would be with no regrets, because she had this man in her arms and he loved her. 

The archer lifted his head to meet her gaze and she smiled softly at him, kissing him tenderly as he pulled out of her and let his weight rest partly atop her and partly on the mattress. She savored the feeling of his warm bulk pressing her into the mattress, tracing idle patterns on the sweat dampened skin of his back. After a moment he rolled off her to lay beside her and she cuddled up against him. The act was natural now, the part of her that balked against giving herself completely to this man had finally been silenced.

Clint slowed his relentless thrusts as she fell over the edge with him. They kissed once, soft and sweet but the gesture said it all as he slipped out of her, resting half on her and half on his bed. Heck, their bed pretty much, Natasha was there almost every night she didn't have to work now.

He moved to his side and no prompting was neccessary, not this time. In the same moment, he wrapped his arm around her and she cuddled up against him, as if on instinct. The feeling of her body intermingled with his was pure bliss, that comfort and silent reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere and neither was he. Not anytime soon.

The archer no longer felt that hesitation from her, to show affection towards him, sure it wasn't public and it likely never would be. But even simply having that love expressed in private was enough. They showed their love and adoration for the other in different ways outside of his apartment an no matter what they were doing each of them knew that the other was there and cared just as deeply.

Clint leaned in and cupped Natasha's cheek, smiling at her, "I love you, Red." he admitted. It wasn't often that they had said it out loud, not since the very first time those few insanely complex words slipped from the redheads lips and soon after, the marksmans. It had still been an odd concept to his lover but this time when he said it, he didn't feel her body tense beneath his fingers.

He kissed her deeply, savoring the moment of her lips pressed against his and her tongue sliding intimately over his own. He grinned at her again and they both rested back against their pillows, facing each other and simply enjoying the company and te feeling of being wrapped in each others arms. Clint was more than happy that today was one of their days off, both taking breaks to rest up from their missions, though it wasn't all that uncommon that when they rarely had free time, Fury would call with an assignment to fill it.

 

Natasha felt her stomach flutter when the archer told her he loved her, she wasn't sure if she would ever get over rush of hearing those words from him. She kissed him deeply and relaxed back into the mattress, savoring the intimate moment. It wasn't often they got the chance to lounge in bed together all morning like this, and she was going to enjoy it.

The redhead stretched languidly against him, sighing and running her nails through the archer's hair. "So, what's on the agenda today, agent Barton?" She asked playfully, kissing his lips lightly and nudging her nose against his.

Clint smiled as Natasha ran her fingers through his hair, returning her soft kiss and following with another. His eyes darted back and forth between both of her blue orbs. He shrugged his shoulders lightly and let out a slow sigh as she leaned against him.

"For once... Nothing." he chuckled. The archer kissed her once more, "I was thinking..." he paused as he pressed his lips to hers again, "We could just do this. Unless you had something else in mind." he grinned back at her as they broke apart.


End file.
